Father for a Day
I threw the ball in sunny backyard
slight breeze slowly spinning the tire swing
returned to me mostly by ground, and coming up short
after a nosedive flight slipped little fingers.
I held a tiny hand through the zoo
giggling at giraffes and silly baboons
scratching, swinging, spitting,
picking mites from one another’s head
eating ice cream sandwiches and pleading, “What’s next?”
I watched at the playground swing sets,
then monkey bars and merry-go-round,
down the slide with skinned knee and wide smile
donning green knit shorts with cowboy boots
(like I used to wear).
I walked along the lakeside at dusk
answering questions when fish flopped or a frog
splashed into the ripples from a rock on shore.
I tried not to let go as we
hugged under fuscia clouds,
the sun set stealing
my day as if awaking.