I believe in Daddy’s lap
In its bigness and its never-ending depth.
I believe in Daddy’s bald spot
Where if you rubbed it, it would shine.
I believe in Daddy’s ties
That he pulled off as soon as he got home
And Daddy’s short sleeve polyester guaiaveras
That he wore on Saturday just because.
I believe in weekends with Daddy
And the smells of the grilled hamburgers
And the lines across the grilled chicken
And the sizzle of briquettes
And mom’s barbecue sauce that made
You never want any other sauce ever again.
I believe in the pool that Daddy would go swimming
With his little girl
And the river where I used to catch minnows
The one where my brothers were going
To spend a dark summer night
But were scared by the sounds of the woods
And I believe in every single ballet or glee club recital that Daddy went to
In the hottest auditorium
On the rainiest day
And the Daddy that said, “My that was good”
Even though I couldn’t sing a note to earn my supper.
And I believe in Daddy who loved me enough to let me go just to get me back
For a time only to let me go again, because it was something I had to do.
I believe in Daddy. I love him always.