Pitter patter

The sounds of my feet walking on wooden boards

Jumping into my father's arms knowing he would catch me.

Or would he?

Innocent eyes oblivious to lies.

I wish my dad could’ve been my Catcher in the Rye

Instead, my smile says ...I’m fine.

I fall to the floor like a baby learning to walk.

Clumsy steps with rolls of cute fat.

I said his name the first time I learned to talk.

I speak his name no longer.