Fathers and their daughters;
There’s something that they have.
Everyone talks about fathers and their sons,
Yet fathers and their daughters have something;
What it is, I can’t define;
But he would give his life for her.
His face lights up when she smiles
And there’s a subtle clenching of his jaw when she frowns
Almost like, “What can I do for you now?”
“How can I bring back the light in your eyes?”
“How can I make all right with the world again?”
I watch them now, and tears come to my eyes.
He feeds her so carefully;
Chopsticks in hand,
Delicately lifting two strands of skinny noodles,
Gently placing them into her waiting mouth.
She misses the pea embedded between the sticks,
So he deposits it in his mouth.
He chews and looks at her,
He smiles and carries on his task.
It’s a never-ending one as well,
This task of nourishment and nurture,
Of filling bellies,
And drawing smiles;
It goes on until he’s old and grey,
Past noodles and miniature bites,
On to false teeth and hospital visits,
When the tables are turned and a mother emerges
From under curly bangs and Alice bands.