The Walk - a poem

I found your blankie at the bridge

Bright pink draped over a rail

Glimmering at high noon...

It had been a great walk.

I returned in triumph. Good dad.

Takes his kids on walks.

I asked you where your blankie was

You stared blankly back. Bad dad.

Never pays attention.

I got in the car and broke many laws

Up streets and down, double-back

Looking for your blankie.

I prepared my speech to Mom

And I planned forgeries for you.

Barefoot, I ran through the park.

I felt wild; I felt lost.

So much on the line.

Your nap, your bedtime, your A.C.T. score

I made my last turn. Barefoot.

There it was. I looked around

Gold for any one's taking.

My arms raised. Rocky style.

good dad.