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# Papa I've Wandered - 1975
- URL: https://the-stardust-journal-press.ghost.io/papa-ive-wandered-1975-2/
- Published: 2014-03-18T19:22:02.000Z
- Updated: 2026-07-01T16:52:33.000Z
- Author: Daniel Rutberg
- Tags: poetry, Death of a parent, #Migrated-1782924600586, #wp, #wp-post, #Import 2026-07-01 12:50

Papa, oh Papa, I’ve wandered  
Far from the mountains where the eagles would fly  
Far from the forests where the winds rushed and died  
I remember the rivers carried yesterday’s rain  
And the sounds of the waterfall calling my name

But how were your hands shaped  
As they reached for mine  
To catch me as I stumbled or to ease an incline  
How were your arms held  
Did their swing match your stride?

You were tall, I remember  
With knapsack well strapped  
On your green corduroy jacket  
And your Irish tweed hat

I remember your eyes as they peered down at me  
With a gleam and a twinkle  
When a tall tale you’d tell  
I’d sit hunched on a boulder as you’d weave your spell

There were trips to the city  
That you loved so well  
Head back and laughing at the Village art fair  
Awestruck and mocking as we looked at their wares  
The fountain was offering a drink to the sky  
You were comfortable there, and with you, so was I

But Papa, I’ve wandered and lost you in form  
So I sit and write memories—  
In this way, I mourn  
For the days in the mountains where the eagles would fly  
For the times in the city where the fountains met sky  
For the moments we spent, that came to an end  
For the years filled with days, hours, and moments  
Not spent together, since then