Tools

every time I reach for a wrench

I am proud to be

My father’s daughter

He was always a tool man

half carpenter

half sailor

all interior marshmallow

He made sure

if I was quiet

and didn’t ask too many questions

that I learned

while he climbed ladders

cut wood

built computers

and changed spark plugs

He made sure I knew how to run

and ran with me

down electric avenue

dad jokes chasing close behind

and to this day

I hear his voice echo in mine

as I teach my daughters

righty tighty

lefty loosey

and I feel his reassuring presence

as I let them watch

quietly

as long as they don’t ask too many questions

as I change the dryer belt

install a new waterline

install a dishwasher and garbage disposal

and cut wood

to remodel a bathroom

with my own two hands

hands,

that while crafty like my mothers

and strong like my fathers

also learned to delicately play the flute

like he did

but perhaps the greatest tool he gave me

was not a screwdriver

or the DIY spirit

or the ability to turn strength into soft songs

Perhaps it was the words

from a man who only ever uses them precisely

measure twice

cut once

”I’m proud of you”

hammered on the 2’ x 5.5’ of me

that will pass down to my girls

like an heirloom

worth more than a craftsman tool chest

worth more than gold.