Hard hands, hard hats
dusty boots scuffling home.
Home.
My dad was one of the sort,
work hard, drink hard
money for dirt
on your pants
in your eyes
your hair.
Hand writing of a child
machine mind
Teach your 10-year-old how to drive
you home
from the bar.
Almost drowned in a river once.
Never mind how I got there
I was glad for your grit
As you yanked me up
and out
and carried me home.