Today's poem is by Donald Levering

Rights
       

Looking back, it's hard to fathom—

though we shrank from his garbled tantrums,
and we knew a large blob floated
in the vision of his right eye,

after his stroke we still let him
drive the family.
He was, after all, our father,

and when he asserted his rights,
none among us could oppose him.
With him behind the wheel,

we watched the angel of dumb luck
steer our full-of-family car
through hectic holiday traffic.

Just as before the stroke,
when his speech was unimpeded
and he ranted right-wing screeds—

we had to hold our breath.

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Copyright © 2022 Donald Levering All rights reserved
from Breaking Down Familiar
Main Street Rag Publishing Company
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission