Can

Things that have been canned:

peaches
pears
pickles
hot peppers
abbey

Today I was canned.
First time ever.
My dad chuckled and said it would not be my last.
He knows me well.
He knows what kind of trouble I can stir up.
He remembers the time I bought him a Minnie Mouse leotard for his birthday.
And the smirk I gave him every few months in high school when I realized I no longer liked that boy.

He knows I have a partial plan and a rough roadless map
Because he, too, had a very similar one tucked into his pocket
Not so long ago
Through his twenties and thirties he watched the lines fill in as he carefully painted the margins with as much love, life, and risk that would fit.
He sometimes abandoned the pages and drafted new ones
And when he was lost, which happened once in awhile, a fresh sheet seemed to find him.

His adventure has allowed and inspired mine, and best of all
Is the clean vacancy of the page he handed to me the day we met.
With his unfaltering whisper "you can" my adventure gained a purpose
And his gained a new twist, painted in pink.