Dads’ Pain: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Do dads ever get/
to be sad and to mourn their/
children and themselves.

How do women wear black, shiny things like this?

As I was folding/
My children’s laundry, /
I came across/
a shiny
black
sheath. /

Turning it /
first one way,
and then/
the other, /
I wondered to myself, /
“How would my girls /
wear this?”

Then it occurred/
To me:/
It/
Was/
A/
Black/
Shiny/
Pillowcase.

When left to her own/
devices, she could truly/
make a masterpiece.

Traditions may be/
forgotten by her, but old/
St. Nick remembers.

“There’s no Recession/
in the alcohol business.”/
Does that bother you?

God is good always./
All the time, God is good. Why/
don’t I remember?

It took nearly two/
minutes watching the moon rise/
to remember her.

Maybe it’s not trains./
Maybe it’s just children and/
windows. They’ll always look.

The wonder of a/
child looking out train’s windows/
helps me see clearly.

I am trying to/
suspend disbelief. Decades/
make it difficult.