Father’s Day is Mother’s Day.

She allowed me to be a father

With her permission and her love—

Which I hardly deserved, a callous nobody.

All daughters deserve praise on Father’s Day.

I became a father because of them,

Intentionally or not. Father’s Day is Daughter’s Day.

Fatherhood belongs to women who are not mothers.

Had they flirted with me,

This callous nobody, moody and alone,

Or given me bad advice,

I had not become a father when I did

(It only took a moment)

And maybe I had never become a father

(Foolish to disparage moments).

We praise intentions every day, but in truth

Wild, unknowing fate and chance is all,

And fathers are moments inside moments inside moments.

Father’s Day is Everyone’s Day,

The best of many days, a great and holy day,

And many wild and joyous celebrations

Should occur, except farty old men are disgusting at parties,

And men do not party well, and fatherhood not at all.

But no solemn marches, either, please.

Attention to fathers fallen or dead

Puts too much emphasis on the man,

When Father’s Day belongs to fate and women.

Father’s Day is Permission  Day.

Without her permission

My children would not now be waking up

With hope and expectation, which is all life is.






  1. June 17, 2018 at 3:56 pm

    Amen to that.

  2. June 18, 2018 at 6:14 am

    Cradle … the hand that rocks.

  3. tomwest2014 said,

    June 16, 2019 at 4:37 am

    That’s good Tom. Thank you.

  4. Anonymous said,

    June 16, 2019 at 4:07 pm

    You ended a poem on a note of hope. I must be dreaming. Lovely poem though. With your children in it.

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