Yellow-orange street lamps.
Bands of light and dark.
Large hands on the wheel.
Two rings catch the light.
They're my hands now.
Softer maybe. Some of mom in the mix.
They seem smaller, less sure.
Can I steady the wheel like him?
When I first held my son I saw my hands as his
A brief insight; for just a moment a connection.
What it was that he might have felt.
Will I face the same?
Can I handle these challenges?
Can I keep the wheel steady?
Did he?
Every year since becoming a father
first a daughter, then a son,
the connection grows stronger.
Every year I can let go a bit more.
The petty grievances of a child
feed understanding in an adult