because every dad’s last dream
is not to be needed
I grab, tight, onto your arm in the cold
for the last time
so maybe you could feel
that my love for you will remain eternal
come to the understanding that this love is
not the type of love
that you had hoped for
you don’t thank me for what you think are
low priorities
but I pick up the mismatched single shoes
around the house
shovel the driveway you let ice over
load your car with warm clean winter clothes
and then I leave for good
fueled by a nightmare optimism
as I develop my own opinions of what you are
and who you are
secrets between us
that will reach dead ears