MJC (1/27/92 / Edina, MN)

And I Cried, Too

I love my father.
I always will.

We used to play
'The rocket game'.
He lifted me up
High above his head,
Tossing me for a split
Second,
But I always ended up safe.

We did that when
I was four,
Before he told me
He had to help make
The world safe
For everyone we knew.

He got dressed all nice
In a crisp uniform.
It was rainy when
He got into the cab.
He didn't see my tears.
He only saw his little girl
Being strong.
And then, he drove.

I had hope;
I believed my hardest,
Harder than any four-year-old
Could possibly do.

But that got lost
and faltered
The day mommy sat in the
Living room
With another man in daddy's
Crisp uniform.
He was uncomfortable.
Mommy was crying.
I was oblivious to
Context,
And I cried, too.

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