Poem: Fatherly Love

It’s funny the things we remember.

I don’t remember my Dad crying
except for a few times.
One was on my wedding day
when he first saw me.
Another is when I’ve read
my poems to him.
After a poem, he silently disappears
while I talk to my mom about
the poem and just as quietly
he reappears behind me and places
his hand on my shoulder.

These moments are the best
evidence I’ve seen of love.