Happy Father's Day, Rick

In a lumbering stride
or lanky legs
or the set of a
determined jaw
In the blue eyes framed
by graceful dark lashes
The effortless recitation
of lines from movies
The off-key renditions of
Social Distortion
and Springsteen songs
The variations on fart humor
at the dinner table
The loudness of living
that bounces off our ceiling
and walls
The bursts of tenderness
and compassion that
startle and amaze me
In their endless capacity
to drive me to the edge
of sanity (and let’s face it,
it’s not that long of a drive)
and drag me back, breathless
from laughing,

I see you,
my co-creator—
their co-conspirator—
the one who
made me
mother to 3 sons
and queen of the realm.

As the only estrogen-fueled
voice in our home,
I can only thank you,
with girly tears,
for all you have done.