Sunday Morning

Daddy smiling at me in a dream
With that proud love
That was only his to offer
Warning some blankface
    With a half-tamed smile
"If you want to get thrown, try to mess
    with my baby"

We were on a holiday
Cottonwood tufts floating in a
     mellow summer heat
Viewed from topside angles
A fortress of joy in motion

Then, getting ready to leave
Sudden, strained, hurried
No makeup, no shoes
Running down a grand staircase
     With a polar bear and a kitten

Almost comical--the taunting, cryptic
     Tears of dawn
Trying to remember
Was Daddy just a patron of me
Or a loving, if reluctant halftime sponsor
For his better mirror image

Now, as he calls to me
From twilight caverns and barn windows
From endless hallways and moonlit
     Willow branches
A piercing stare
In a black fading distance--
I know better