For Robert. (a poem for my step father)

When I cry
and Mom is asleep,
I can see
the discomfort
behind his stubbly
half smile.
But he'll listen,
whether I need
to talk or scream.
He'd rather
spare my pain
than spare
his own unease.
He knows
that's what his
daughter needs.

When I'm laughing,
and he thinks
I'm not looking,
His cheshire smile
spreads across
the planes of his
wiser than his years face.
With those eyes
that seem to know
everything without
you having to say a word.
I can see it
there in the sparkle
of his charcoal pupils
I'm "Daddy's little girl",
no matter how old
I get or try to be.

Ill never
be able to show
enough gratitude
for all that he's done
for Mom, for Clarke, for me...
But I want him to know,
I consider myself
the luckiest girl
in the world
because MY dad,
 chose me.