My Dad

by Donna Gagnon

a soft brown teddy bear and a
green crocheted blanket
are the only real things
in this hospital room

oh yeah
my dad’s in the bed
but the man in that bed
has never been real

not to me

he never said
   never looked at me that way
   never touched me lightly

I got his toughness
he taught me how to smoke and drink
   and play cards and stay out all night

I got his temper
he taught me anger and how to put on the gloves and smack
   without damaging my hands

when he’s dead
I want my bear and my blanket
back