Pink Feather Boa
A Poem of My Pride (& Joy)
“… When you meet a girl and get married…” I would say.
“….or a boy…” I always added.
My heart broke when you finally told me, though. Because you were gay?
No. Never! You are and always have been my light. My pride and joy!
I knew since you were two.
Dad said it was because I let you wear my pink feather boa. You loved it so!
If that were the case, every boy should be gay! Because that boa was fabulous!
No. It was because I was last to be told. I’d spent your whole life making room at the table for that particular conversation.
And I was last.
Nevertheless, hugs were had and jokes were made. I smacked you upside the head for not telling me sooner and then proceeded to plan the still dreamed of wedding for my son, with his future husband.
I’ll wear my pink feather boa.
