Have I told you the one about the sea urchin?Stop me when it sounds too familiar.
My family was in the Virgin Islands
and my father and I were off exploring.

We had explored too far
for we had stepped on sea urchins, which,
if you’ve ever done it, don’t.
They’re made of spikes,
so just… don’t.

It hurt, you might say, to have walked on something
made of spikes.
I cannot speak for my father
but four-year-old me was shocked, hurt,
and couldn’t walk worth a damn afterward.

But we had to get back to the house
and feet are what you use to do the walking
and feet are what were hurt
by walking on spikes, so
you see the problem.

Dad took me in his arms
and carried me back to the place we were staying.
My mind’s eye can see his face, the pain,
as his two feet carried us both through torture
back to the house.
I am not a father, and I likely never will be,
but my memory sees responsibility,
sees fatherhood, in my Daddy’s action that day.

If I told you that story before,
I’m here to tell it again.
Thank you, Dad.