Staring into a sepia past
Your grainy lost-life rises
From dusty drive-ways and old toys
From two bright, blond-haired hippies
One toe dipping in ceremony
As if they know of our fear:
How much marriage does it take to kill?
And in your father’s big hands
I witness the way you cup my love
And I know for the first time
Why the past gives birth to the future.
How precious your boyhood is
For that child walked you to manhood
And there, I have been waiting
For just such an afternoon with you
A kitchen table moment
The kind that makes me smile just because
You loved me enough to share