Dad Reins

For Sam

The platform-schlep and keycard-shuffle done
I’m back home again, and of course, there’s change.
New words and habits, but the biggest one:
you’ve ditched your pram, you’re now in baby reins.
No more for us the quick-nip up the shop!
You lunge and circle like a moon-faced dog
as I adjust from back-combed jobbing fop
to paunchy dad. My nightly monologue
of measured, risqu? quips swapped for a set
of weary nags and grinning faux amazement.
I’ll step from stage to stage but won’t forget
these sweet staccato wobbles up this pavement.
Roam now my boy, don’t worry, you’ll be fine
I’ll be your tether Sam, because you’re mine.

unpublished poem, Luke Wright 2015, used by permission of the author

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