Man of Home

You are the red well-cared car

You are the crosswords in Sunday papers

You are the glamorous brown leather shoes

You are the warm chocolate milk before sleep

I’ve never been picked up though it rains, anymore

I’ve never finished the crosswords up on Sunday, anymore

I’ve never been stepped on in a joke, anymore

I’ve never even slept before early morning

But, don’t worry

I bring my umbrella

I keep on filling the crosswords out

I tell some jokes to friends

I call your name in my prayer every night

I know you know I do