Laugh Lines

In thirty years or so

He’ll leave,

And we’ll be left with a coffin, and a choir

Of people who never knew him. A mortician will

Dolly him up for a wake, and a lawyer will

Divvy up his affects.

At the funeral, everyone he knew

Will sob and recount

The good father,

The hard worker,

The tender husband.

I’ll get up to speak, partially

Because he loved how comfortable

In front of crowds I am, something he

Never was.

Short and sweet, I’ll share with them:

Eyes lend themselves straight

Into the soul. But for my dad, well

He had more than these could bear.

And what I always, truly loved about my father

Lied just to the outside: Three deep-set wrinkles of joy, his laugh lines.