In a crowded room of yesteryears
Scared and unsure is a look I’ve never seen on him before
the flutter of your butterfly kisses
“Who is that old man in the mirror?” dad asked as he looked up with a crooked half smile.
…Everyday I see him I say “I love you” because tomorrow is always uncertain.
The smokey Mountains are beautiful.
Even on the worst days there are the best moments.
This baby face I have never kissed but know so well as it is one I grew up alongside and then again held as my own.
His first tattoo was at the age of 14 in 1952 paying homage to his mother and brothers.
I assumed all dads were covered in artwork and words.
Holding tight to the porcelain edge
Wishing to be the eagle upon my chest
Wings spread and fully-fledged