I was nine
the last time
I saw him
almost three
decades ago
but it feels
like yesterday:
my stepfather
replaced my father
and even though
I prayed and prayed
for God to bring
him back, he never
returned
instead he lay
in the ground
covered in dirt
while another man
with a filthy mind and shifty eyes
lay in my mother’s bed
covered in dirt
and even though
I prayed and prayed
for God to take him way
he stayed
along with the longing
for my father
ironically enough,
on this day every year,
I gaze at my children
and thank God
for answering my prayers
he didn’t bring back my father
(and bury my stepfather instead)
but he sent me a husband
a reminder to me
of what fatherhood
really means.
