Boy without a father

Boy without a father

Mother saw her four-year-old from far off
Blue, white uniformed shirt plunged down the calf,
his hair obscure and unwashed
coming out of here and there, mocked
the soiled dark shorts.

His chubby tummy, tanned by the sun
both hands raised upward, in reckless run
with children on the playground, had such fun.

She saw with fright, where’s his shimmy?
not worn a panty; weather was so flimsy
had he eaten or not, or was he thirsty?

Just yesterday, father had taken him away
to threat, just to put his mother in dismay
to enslave her to his lusty
whims and fancies, morals just as gusty.

Mumma or pappa? This way or that?
Eyes determined, she clasped him to her gut.
Toying on the puny mind was which one?
mother hugged her boy tight like none.
Many years past, he wished her, Happy Father’s Day.