Know Your Father

You think you know your father,
Three missed calls,
Lamenting your afternoon breakfasts,
Hushed post-party conferences,
Advice on hiding two left feet,
Crazy concern on how Google Maps
Is why your East is West,
His face the bulletin of your flaws,
His love the ointment that stings.

And then you overhear bedroom whispers,
Emotion holding your trophies,
His pragmatism suddenly romantic,
Awe at your fierce curiosities,
Trumpeting your humility,
His eyes are fire, you know,
His hands are veined hyperboles,
Stitching deeds with your name,
Banners he will hide clumsily,
As you stumble in,
Now aware of unkempt hair,
Your two left feet,
And his half-sarcastic smile.

Image Source: Vicky Wade