I saw them every evening
on the way home from my 9-to-5
the woman dressed immaculate
too young for the five-year-old cherub
that clutched her manicured fingers
never a hair out of place
the lashes parted just so and even
her rings match the shoes the purse
the shadows of her eyes
I saw them every evening
and still started every time
as the fresh-faced cherub reached up
with an open smile and grasping hands
to the unkempt man standing nearby
dirt crusted sneakers and baggy sweats
a worn shirt with a hole or two
and a gold watch that matched nothing
she called him Daddy
and the immaculate woman
would turn to him and speak
in low tones of bills and day care
casseroles and weekends with mother
I would look and notice the diamond ring
then see his three-day growth
and wonder if this was responsibility
is he the father or the father-figure
a new lover or a long-time husband
I saw them every evening
stepping down the steps together
a cherub hand each to one of theirs
and by the time they laughed at her young antics
I would decide
that this was love