Catholic Dad

I’ve got a quiverful of children.

The Bible calls them arrows

and me lucky

and I am.

Though I’ve a pretty good view

of the target, and pull the bow

the same way every time,

bends in the air

send the one a-high

and the one a-low

and dams back in

their beaver,

aquiver.

 

I duck myself when they circle around.

 

I practice.

I do practice.

But my son and my daughter

fly where they will.

Over and under but especially

under the hill,

they fly where they will.

 

Psalms, the next generation

When we ask ourselves

what this hour is for,

when grief it rains

in the houses next door,

when Pickles the maid

mops up the floor,

and we drop to the basement below:

Then I pick me up

and dust me up

and turn to you, O Tums:

(key of G)

O Tums, Tums,

Tum-tee-tum-tum

Tum-tee-tum-tum-tee-tum-tum!