Ruth Van Alstine Poet I do not know?

I Remember

I remember 
	a stubbly cheek prickling my lips,
	a strong hand holding me protectively when I was small.

I remember
	a spanking for eating mud pies,
	hearing stories of when he was young
	lying in the grass under the stars.

I remember
	strong arms wrapped about
	my trembling body, rescuing me.

I remember
	a strong, wise, quiet guide
	always there when I needed him.

I remember
	my father.


Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016

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