I Push Him Daddy

 I push him Daddy as he sits
in the plastic bucket seat and watch
him arch back and curve forward
and sometimes I catch him Daddy
to prove that I can hold on and
sometimes I let him crash into my chest
and leave a mark where his feet press
through my sternum and touch
a large once-empty chamber
and I fall back and laugh to let him know
it’s okay to laugh and Daddy he laughs
because he knows I’ll always come back
to the swing always want to come back
to the swing always want to come back
and push him a little more Daddy
a little higher each time just to show him
how high he can go and still
have someone waiting right below

Ours and Only Ours

We picked berries in the yard Daddy
pushed his dump truck through the grass
and pulled the wild red bulbs from their stems
and it was hot and he went slow Daddy
he took his time when picking the dandelions
and also rolled around the cool lawn
while I stood beside him Daddy and let the sweat
kiss down my cheek and heard the birds
begin to sing with each picked berry
dropped into the toy and Daddy he would go
and scare the birds away to see them fly
and also to confirm to them
that this heat was ours and only ours

 

 

 

Sean L. Corbin’s work has recently appeared in Still: The Journal, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, Poetry Fix, Crow Hollow 19, and others. Sean holds an MFA from the University of Kentucky. He lives in Lexington, Kentucky, with his wife and two sons.