Chicken Tenders

I screamed and

you weren’t listening.

You screamed

and I

wasn’t listening.

It doesn’t matter now I don’t know

but when I turned and struck that metal door

we stopped and

everything stopped.

It stopped and began

years ago when I

was just a child.

Eight years old trailing

my father at a Charger game

running, running to keep up

with his walk.

If I hadn’t forgot my chicken tenders

we’d be sitting

down watching the game

cheering.

But no you were busy

asking each gate guard if you could take me

to the car then reenter

but they said no.

You gave your time

your energy

your money

on tickets to be at this game

But you were here, walking,

running, to take care of your son,

to get him his chicken tenders,

to make him feel okay.

The dented metal door

staring back at me

like a single eye in despair.

I’m staring at you

staring at me

my mind not here

But walking, running,

keeping up with you taking care of me

is where it shall stay.