As a Father
I didn’t want to miss your infancy,
So in the middle of the night, I wobbled into your room,
Sleep-eyed with your mother,
Just to make things warm and dry again.
I didn’t want to miss your early years,
So I put my work aside,
And, with you, carefully examined all the toys on your blanket,
Because they were just as important as my toys.
I didn’t want to miss your childhood,
So I stopped reading a good novel (its content I can’t remember).
I stopped doing that little chore I had finally begun,
And I rode you on my back like a wild horse,
Dancing with delight inside myself
To the tune of your pure laughter.
I didn’t want to miss your youth,
So I interrupted my agenda at the desk
And drew with chalk all over our driveway,
Hopscotching around from square to square
With my tie flapping ridiculously from my chest
And I watched, from the corner of my eye,
Your smile of approval of my hopping,
And your very adult-like waiting for your turn.
