Though sometimes it is also “no.”
To which children, in their messy innocence,
might anger. But age, of course, teaches
that boundaries, like fences, like walls,
are for safety.
Protection is not all a man can offer.
There are boy scout trips, bags of compost
to ensure a thriving garden, sixteen mile hikes
on a beach, or mastering electricity, then watching
your son do the same.
And though it’s more than wires
and pulled weeds that connect us,
the stuff of everyday is also sacred.
Like hamburger, gravy, and rice.
It’s simple. It gets the job done.
So much of love, we know, is sacrifice.
Watching music videos that you
don’t understand — a man in makeup
screaming onscreen, caring only for the joy
of your daughter.
We know that if an alligator lurks
near a kayak’s oar, or a car needs driving,
you will be there. To dance class, through
Alaska, wherever we need to be.
Some nights, you’d carry us from the car
to a soft bed, and we learned that we
could pretend to sleep, eyes shut tightly
so we could remain safe in the warmth of your arms.