Do you remember the wooden car you carved
By hand or machine (I didn’t know which) but
We painted blue and ran in races somewhere
(I didn’t know where) and even though we lost
It still felt like victory because I had my dad and
We did something well together even though
We lived miles apart (I didn’t know why)?
Father's Day
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About the Author
Michael Fontana lives and writes in beautiful Bella Vista, Arkansas. He worked as an activist, teacher, and fundraiser before retiring. His poems most recently appeared in Dappled Things, Fur-Lined Ghettos, The Stray Branch, Penwood Review, and Poppy Road.
