It is an ``off day'' as our daughter
would say - no school. I am home
with the children. This morning
we got up late, ate peanut butter
in bed, and read.
The sun is shining after days of rain,
leaves are cascading from trees,
covering the ground with a crunchy carpet
of brown and orange and red.
Our daughter and her friend
are talking about school, about math
and times tables and how they aren't
supposed to know yet that if you
multiply backwards you are dividing.
``I learned that early,'' her friend says.
As I wash the dishes,
I think there is little I can recall
that I learned early,
most things I learned quite late:
how to ask for help,
to say yes, or no, and mean it,
how to be a father,
and how to love.
Today, my spirits are buoyed
by what I know and do.
I am washing dishes
and feeling grateful:
for this moment,