Photo by Ted Karch
Daddy drives to work
Each and every day
He travels long and far
by car, far, far, away
Daddy is a salesman.
He makes a living on the road.
He stays in strange beds every night
and carries his heavy load.
This year it’s cleaning supplies for
Laundries and the like.
Last year he sold computer printers
that spat out multi-colored type.
He’s sold it all
from one time or another
Motors, saws – tractors tires
To proved for me and mother.
He’s gone most days,
gone most nights, too.
I rarely see him any more
And those days I do, are far too few.
He stays in motels and hotels
And in the inns along the way
Listening to FM and AM and CD’s
when he’s not trying his clients to sway…
Daddy is salesman
he’s out for a trip.
I’ll see him before spring
before we take a summer’s dip.
He’ll be in Buffalo, in Rochester
and Albany, as well.
He’ll be in Chicago this summer
And Texas will be hotter than hell.
He calls my mom
Each and every night
And says goodbye to her and to me.
And darling, he says, “Sleep tight.”
Daddy drives to work
Each and every day
He travels long and far
by car, far, far, away
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