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Being A Father

Edward G. Lynch

I failed.
At their births, I came up out of the soil,
An ivy with nothing to cling to.
A father should never crawl along the ground

But seem indestructible and tall,
In a place to which the children return
With their children.

Then they would understand
That I had to be still for them,
Be permanent, as an important memory,

Then try to stand, meaning something
I never found the words for
Because my love for them was too deep
To be completely human.

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