Gator Tails

was what my dad would yell out anytime we passed the shredded mess of a tire
abandoned on the side of the road
my brother and I would press our faces against the window
trying to catch a glimpse of the swamp creature that left it behind
on long road trips that took us through the Gulf Coast
we kept our eyes peeled for something lurking in the tree line
We knew that one day
we would see it
a colossal beast come to make our father’s words something more than mere myth
I don’t know when I stopped believing my dad
I just know that one day
I didn’t acknowledge his excited gestures
didn’t lift my eyes from the book I was reading
and pretty soon after that
he stopped saying it at all.
Now when I make the drive by myself
debris littering the highway
I whisper the words to the empty car
I imagine my father
scanning the road ahead
looking for a reason to make us believe in something bigger than ourselves

Kimberly Wolf is a poet and parent living in Texas. You can read more of her work at www.kimberlywolfpoet.com. You can find her on Twitter @KimmieWolf.