This next poem made several rounds through the submissions process before someone finally picked it up. It was written on Sept. 2, 2016, for a poetry writing workshop I took as part of creative writing class in my MFA program.

I was beginning to think it would never get published. As far as poetic works went, I always thought it one of my better offerings. But what did I know? I believe I said already that I didn’t consider myself much of a poet. This once was proof positive I didn’t have a clue, on many fronts, I suppose.

If nothing else, it was definitely the most personal for me, at very least. I wrote about what I was experiencing at that very moment, which, in fact, was said birthday. I had no place to even leave a message, considering how everything worked out at the time.

I’m glad it finally found a home… And now, a few words on fatherhood in a modern age:

MY LITTLE GIRL

by Bobby Horecka
© May 3, 2018

my little girl
turned 21
today

not my little girl
actually
delicate intricate

step- as it
were but still
my little girl

taught to read to write to draw
cook and sew, ride a bike, build a fire, too
my little girl

until the divorce…

then it was me, I suppose
credited for affections
bruised purple and blue

tearsangerhatreds despised
sometimes I’m glad I can’t see
my little girl’s eyes

still, my little girl
turned 21
today

and I can’t
even call her—
my little girl

Early 2014, near Palmetto State Park outside Gonzales, Texas. I didn’t know it at the time but I’d be divorced before year’s end, and everything I ever had would be gone (kids, a car, a new home and the land it sat on, a wardrobe, a pretty impressive library, electronics, several new appliances, furnishings, tools, photo albums, a life’s worth of mementos). Everything I didn’t have on me was gone. A house fire back in 1997 wasn’t nearly as cruel. And nary so much as a phone call, court notice or letter to let me know it was happening. I never thought such a thing was even possible, but boy, did I get an education.