Daddy Daddy Daddy
"Daddy's girl"
sewn on my pink and lace nightgown
Mom popped it over my head
as she cooed, "Daddy will be home soon."
She told me that story and many others
from time I can't remember.
Daddy, God, Santa Claus
in order of importance-
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.
He smiled and laughed,
always had something new.
Hoola Hoops, once --
my brother couldn't even walk.
Daddy and Mommy
before they were twenty eight:
dressed - really dressed - no one wore t-shirts
ladies' shorts zipped on the side;
Dad wore white converse basketball shoes.
We played.
Daddy smiled and put his feet on our chest
and we flew, my brother and I.
We went to the zoo,
with dry bread crumbs
we saved in the garage, in an onion bag
We could feed the animals then.
Swimming in a lake, camping,
in the driveway, fixing the car:
my mind keeps snap shots.
Dad told us we were the best
at whatever we did
so of course, we did more.
Praise, encouragement, love
a few practical skills.
That's how I remember my father
those years of bliss, when he had all the answers.
I watched him cast his spell over my sons
for over twenty five years.
He was the best advice I could share.
Copyright © Ann Copland | Year Posted 2014
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