I know people with guardians
people reared.
I know fewer people who were raised-
people with parents.
A parent who offers the hand
rather than raise it
whose fat-knuckled fingers atop their creased palms outstretch
but never strike
The car nearly crashes and your mothers hand
splays over your chest instead of her own
as she engages the emergency break
and a father whose toddler interrupts his show-
he laughs
then carries on
And they’ll hold you accountable
parents will
and rather than mould you they’ll insist you turn out their parallel
to save you from the mistakes they made
to sprout anew.