Sunday Dads
By Ben

The child is his
His nose, his chin
They are seated,
It’s easier then cleaning the apartment
“Top Sirloin, Baked Potato with Sour Cream
A Hot Dog with Macaroni and Cheese.”
The child’s eyes
Tells of an Olympian Dodge Ball game
The father’s eyes
Tell of a life lost, a broken dream
They do not sit in silence
The child sees to that

Then the pause.
“Daddy, Do you love me?”
A love authenticated by a tear answers,
“Of course I do.”
“Then why can’t you move back home?”
A question, never answered.

By the time the food is served,
The meal is over for this Sunday Dad.

used by permission of CareActing Company