I see it when he smiles at the children on the train.
When his forgetfulness of sunsets blow his mind.
I see when he pets the backs of bees
promising he will never feel their hated sting.
I see it when he looks at every book
like it’s the last thing he will ever read.
I see it when he looks at her
like she’s the only star he’s seen.
I know it when he looks at me,
with the pride and hopeful actuality
of everything he knows I can be.
I feel it when he laughs with me,
about the world’s strange peculiarities.
for being a father
that shows me
how all men should be.