My sister told the tale/
of being under sail/
years before.

She capsized,/
but she knew,/
and was not surprised/
with how quickly from the shore/
our Father flew/
to her rescue.

While I was glad/
that she was loved by our Dad,/
I knew/
Between him and me/
there would never be/
such sharing/
or attentive caring.

Yesterday, decades hence,/
my cousin and I went/
on a day sail,
and our mast ripped apart and failed.

So, we drifted, demasted,
but my anxiousness only lasted/
a moment or two/
before I knew/
that once more/
my Dad had watched from shore/
and quickly, in his boat without crew,
was coming to his child’s rescue.

Because that’s what Dads do.