He must be strong

not to cry.  His wife needs his strength.

As he walks into a world of satin lining, he thinks of her

Prom.  The satin and lace gown had flown around her like flocks

of dappled canaries.  Yellow is her favorite color.

This satin shall shroud her. He winces.

The gray light from outside settles in the room like an old

lover.  He listens to his hollow foot falls

on the hard wood floor.  Decides this cannot

be the place where his daughter will receive her last gift.

He rests his hands on a wood rail for support and thinks:

            Fathers should not have to put their little girls in pretty boxes.