Centennial

Paper hats hung loose off stubby ponytails
in the most precious days of my life,
when I hadn't yet noticed
I was a runt among boys and girls.
You promised to get the night off—
said we'll watch Dallas against Tampa.
I know it's stupid, but I've been so excited all day.
With my long arms flinching and my big big feelings,
I crave clean, decent fun.
Each hour a clock's song, we got silent there in bed,
all of me fitting handily on your tummy.
In my dreams, I get up to no good with a Ulysses cowboy gun.
I'm trying to get my mother's attention in the yard.
Her mouth is moving, but only the cries of a goat are coming out.
I know it's dumb, but long from now, when we're older,
I'll pay for a warm meal in town and bathe you by bucket and rag
when you begin to lose reason.
You believe me the way my child self longed to be believed.
You're my new father and the most beautiful living thing.