Mental Snapshot

The river flew into his shoulder. a cloud perched on the top of his quiff (blown about a bit by the day becoming colder) . A train entered his left ear and departed from his right. Birds scattered & clattered from his outstretched hand. I was his little boy & he was my big man. I took four steps to every one of his tying manfully to fit into his stride. I was holding his hand & crying. I still remember my Dad on that day exactly as he was when the river flew into his shoulder And the rain fell all about him & my mind went click & captured it turning it into the treasure of forever.