My Friend a Daddy

Everyday, somewhere a child   my friend a daddy

          stares out a window


          for Dad to come home.

It doesn’t matter what kind of work he does

          (though a fireman or race car driver would be great).

It doesn’t matter how much money he makes

          (though getting a new bike is better than not).

It doesn’t matter how tall he is or what clothes he wears

          (though 501s and Nikes are cooler

          than Brooks Brothers and wing tips).

What matters is hearing the sound of him coming home

          his voice saying your great

          his hug keeping you safe

          his kiss on top of your head

          assuring you it will be okay.

Of all the words I’ll ever hear

          of all the folks I’ll ever meet

          of all the roads I’ll walk along

Nothing will ever make me feel as safe

          as important, as sure,

          as carrying my Daddy inside my heart

          next to my soul.

Where he can keep me safe whenever I need him to.


*for Nicholas J Baracco, Massepequa, NY

All rights reserved.  ©1996 by Sara Fryd



7 thoughts on “My Friend a Daddy

  1. oh this lightens my heart and inivites my spirit soar – remembering rides high above the head – safe and loved. Georgeous and playful and profound all in one.


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