My Father

My father
strong, tall, atheletic,
swinging me by my arms and legs
making me feel like an airplane,
letting me use rubber bands to put
ponytails in his hair,
using a marker to make puppets
out of his toes.
Oh, to be six years old again.
Now it is many years later,
and he is hundreds of miles away,
Yet he is always with me.
All I have to do is
look in the mirror
to see his face.