The Swing: Poems of Fatherhood

By C.S. Fuqua

Moments of Tegan's life, through her father's eyes. Is anything more rewarding--and difficult--than being a parent? A father documents intimate moments with his daughter from birth into adolescence and contemplates the challenges, sacrifices, and rewards for all parents and children. This title is published by Uncial Press and is distributed worldwide by Untreed Reads.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Untreed Reads
• Release date: May 18, 2007
• ISBN: 9781601740236

C.S. Fuqua

C.S. Fuqua is a full-time freelance writer whose published books include Trust Walk (collected short fiction), Big Daddy's Gadgets, The Swing: Poems of Fatherhood, Divorced Dads and Notes to My Becca, among others. His work has appeared widely in publications as diverse as the Christian Science Monitor, Naval History, Main Street Rag and Year's Best Horror Stories. His interest in music history is rooted in his hobbies as a musician and craftsman of Native American flutes. Please visit his website at www.fluteflights.com/CSFUQUA.

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Acknowledgments

Grateful acknowledgement is made to the following publications where some of the poems in this volume have previously appeared. The versions contained here, arranged in chronological order, may vary slightly from the originals.

Abbey, Blind Man's Rainbow, Cellar Roots, The Christian Science Monitor, Erete's Bloom, Hazmat Review, Illya's Honey, Illuminations, Iodine, Limestone Circle, Lonzie's Fried Chicken, The MacGuffin, Main Channel, Voices, Main Street Rag, Not One of Us, Open Cut, Pearl, Piedmont Literary Review, Poultry Broadside, Rockford Review, Stuff, Tripwire, Up Dare?

Seconds

I'm 36

and a few days into a new life.

You can say this about the old one:

His marriage was better than most,

better than some.

Carve that on the tombstone.

Also, don't forget the trinkets

sold from that life's work.

Scratch them as postscript.

Now a new life, marked

by a fresh resident,

dependent as an invalid,

but getting better.

My friend is asleep in bed.

Two decades, we made that bed live,

made it rock and roll, baby.

Now the one who sleeps between us

cuts the mattress into thirds.

This new life frightens me,

I admit that much.

Traveling blind here.

Dependent keeps popping up,

and I don't like it applied to me.

Had forgotten youth,

singularity,

being alone.

And now?

Must reconsider routine

and joining and separation.

Man, boy, untethered,

stepping lightly into secondhood,

wary of the chisel.

Now

See 'n' Say:

A cow says...

We moo half-heartedly

over biscuits and syrup.

We've