“My Papa”
My Papa’s eyes
sparkled like stars
in the nighttime sky
or like tiny tiny stars
from a sparkler
one fourth of July.
I was nine
and the fireworks
boomed and boomed
into the night.
They scared me.
But there was Papa
holding my shaking hand
and smiling.
I remember the way
my little hand felt safe,
like a little bird
tucked into the warm strong nest
of Papa’s big hand.
My Papa’s eyes
sparkled like stars
in the nighttime sky.
Category: Poems
