(Leave your story in the comments below.)
Up at dawn, never stops providing.
I have one father: my mother.
Captured fleeting moments with his lens
“It’s a girl!”
“I don’t love you,” he said.
Traveled the world to find wives.
He laughed, I cried. This. That.
From day one, he was unaccountable!
Beard gone grey, fierce turned soft.
He left me behind.
When he died, so did I.
He killed. I talked about it.
Unchanging; brave in the quietest ways
Father exposed his feelings. Finally, cried.
I’m proud that he’s my Dad.
Old baseball gloves. Playing catch.
“How’s your car -> computer?”
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