cropped-ev_img20-2.jpg

By Trista Dominiqu

When I lived with my
father and brother I
used to wake up at five
and make my fathers
lunch.

Tucking it away in his
big thermos lunch box,
the one all fathers in
steel toes carry.

His 7-11 big gulp cup
filled with ice tea, made
music with his keys as
he walked out the door.

I would see him off
before falling back
asleep on the couch,
happy to have taken
care of my father on his
way to take care of us.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s