Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Father & Child

Father and Child

Today—through windows of the coffee shop
I see a father and his child. They stop
There at the light and wait for green. Then walk
Across the street in smiles. And as they talk,
I see—though cannot hear—affection’s tone.
I sit here with my drink and books. Alone.
And feel a sweeping sadness—perfect pain—
As I now realize that not again
Will I walk hand in hand across the street,
While laughing with my little son, whose feet
Must hurry to keep pace with mine. I slow,
Of course. Accommodate. Because I know
He's absolutely fixed on keeping pace
With Dad. Determination lights his face.
We reach the safety of the other side.
He gently pulls his hand from mine ...
                                                           I cried
Today. That father and his child. These days
They share are evanescent. Nothing stays—
Not gold, as Frost reports. Nor dross. All goes.
I wonder if that laughing father knows
His child will drop his hand—his grip go slack.
She’ll walk ahead—perhaps not glancing back.


1. Dumb

So I went sailing with my pa,
Who got so sick from pitch and yaw.

2. … and Dumber

Yaw goin’ to the game?” he cried.
I said, “No way!”—I kinda lied.

Shakespeare Couplet: A Midsummer Night’s Dream (44)

The others, wondering where Bottom’s been,
Are thrilled to see him—ass-less—once again. (4.2)

No comments:

Post a Comment