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)