Christopher's Father
Young
man, suddenly
tall and confident,
singing in the shower,
eager out the door, not held
back, reluctant, like he used to be
to face the world, one shoulder always
slightly behind the other as though he was
hesitating, his chin down, his eyes staring out
from under his bangs, watching, waiting for the shower
of taunts and insults that he was sure would come his way the
minute his foot left the threshold of home, in a way that used to make
me want to run out ahead of him and blast a safe path between our home and
the school, but of course I never could because that is not how fatherhood works?
