Poetry Sunday

I'm a father of three - two boys and one girl - and grandfather of six, four of whom are girls. This poem speaks to all fathers and grandfathers, not only those of girls ...

For Fathers of Girls

by Stephen Dunn

          for Susanne

When sperm leaves us

and we cockadoodledo

and our wives rise like morning

the children we start

are insignificant as bullets

that get lodged, say,

in a field somewhere

in the midwest.

If we are thinking then

it is probably of sleep

or the potency of rest, or

the one—hand catch we made

long ago at the peak of our lives.

Later, though, in a dream

we may imagine something in the womb

of our heads, neither boy nor girl,

nothing quite so simple.

But when we wake, our wives are

breathing like the wounded

on the whitest street in the world.

We are there

we are wearing conspicuous masks

for the first time,

our eyes show the sweat

from our palms.

Suddenly we are fathers

of girls: purply, covered with slime

we could kiss. There's a cry,

and the burden of living up

to ourselves is upon us again.

I'm not sure how well I've lived up to myself, but I hope history's judgement will be kind.

Have a good day and enjoy the rest of your weekend. Love your children, especially the girls ... in the next few years, I think they'll probably need it more than ever.

More thoughts coming.

Bilbo