Oh, here I am again, last-minuting for a Monday poem. I was delighted to know the theme as early as Tuesday, but then nothing much ever cooked itself up in my head for writing down over the weekend. I think Chris's theme of Father needs more than a couple of days to stew. In lieu of a good poem, here is a morning train poem.
On hands and knees in the living room
three offspring, riding
Dadhorse rules the range.
That's my dad playing with us kids when we were little enough to fit all three on his back. My mom took a nice photo of us, and I'm not at all sure it was the same event, but from my side I remember a dadhorse ride around the living room where (at four or thereabouts) I lost control and peed on him. Sorry, Dad!
For more takes on Father, click on over to the Poetry Jam!