DADDY’S HERE
Looking Up,
With tearful eyes, so big and brown,
A trembling lip,
A runny nose,
And a saddened frown,
Awakened by a dream,
A night-time fear,
But it’s alright son,
Your Daddy’s here.
Head in hands,
With heavy heart, he sits and cries,
Between his feet,
His baseball glove,
His cap pulled down to lowered eyes,
Up at bat, he lost the game,
And with a win so near,
But it’s alright son,
Your Daddy’s here.
Forcing a smile,
Pretending disappointment isn’t there,
A wilted corsage,
A loosened tie,
The car cleaned and waxed with care,
To be stood up on a date,
By a girl he held so dear,
But it’s alright son,
Your Daddy’s here.
A piercing scream,
She sits in mud, beneath her swing,
With dirty face,
And dirty hands,
And dirty everything.
The fall though small,
Brought both a bruise and tear,
But it’s alright now,
Your Grandpa’s here.
(Winner of the 1989 Naome Dolton Award/Fort Worth Poetry Society)
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