Clearing out my attic,

filled with antiques

bought at garage sales

for over fifty years,

I found a small notebook.

It was a list of stocks Father

bought and sold over a span

of many years with the cost,

and dates meticulously recorded.

When I passed my parent’s bedroom

late at night, I remember seeing the red

glow of his Lucky Strike as he obsessed

over which stocks to buy or sell—

a gambler’s delight.

It reminded me of how well organized

Father was—never leaving for work

without his Parker fountain pen, gold

pocket watch and the Wall Street Journal.

He loved his 1931 Model A Ford—

enjoyed driving around friends

and relatives on Sunday afternoons.

But his greatest pleasure was replacing

spark plugs that he precisely gapped

before installing them.

If only he had known that gamblers

never win—he might have become a disciple

of Warren Buffet and become a wealthy man.