I never understood why my father
Prolonged his goodbyes. My mother
Would have her coat on, waiting by the door,
My brothers and I bundled up and ready to leave.
But he always had to have one more drink,
One more laugh, one more shoulder pat.
I was young then, and wanted nothing more
Than to run out of every moment as quick
As I could.
Now though, I’m not too different from him.
Please, stay for one more drink. Let me
Help you get ready to leave. I promise
I’m not stalling, I just want a little more time
Before I sit like a dog by the door
And wait for you to come back home.
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