Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

poem-when May 29, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:56 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

(An early Father’s Day poem)

.

When I was little

your face was behind a camera

capturing moments of my small life,

fearlessly climbing the steps on the tallest slide,

thigh high stretches for a toddler,

far above your head,

not afraid;

no pain had touched me.

Your greatest gift was security

to grow up confident in your love.

No one else ever loved me so well

or with such shameless devotion.

Oh, how great my loss.

When I miss you,

as I often do,

my memories are lit with

gratitude,

gratitude,

gratitude.

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4 Responses to “poem-when”

  1. Jim Stewart Says:

    Yes. That is the father I have tried to be. It changes as everyone grows, but you’ve nailed the bottom line. My daughter is 40 now, but that is the feeling I still have, watching her on that slide…

  2. EdotteeDot Says:

    I needed to see this. My daughter is 11 now and I am wrestling with taking a job for a foot in the door that’s far from her.

    If she ever feels a fraction of emotion in this poem, I may feel better. Thanks for posting this.

    • For what it’s worth, my father was a travelling salesman for most of my life and yet I don’t remember a single event of significance that he missed. His presence overwhelmed any absences. May your daughter feel the same!


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