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.