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| Micah making a memory |
Making
a Memory
I found him out in the backyard
one hot summer day.
Sitting in my wheelbarrow, hands raised; water hose in one
The barrow overflowing, turning
the grass beneath to squishy muck
The Dad in me opens his mouth. "What the heck you doing, son?"
"I'm making a memory,
Dad," he said, all matter-of-fact
It
stopped me cold. Fifteen years old, six feet three
Legs draped over the barrow end,
between the handles
As he
made a summer day into a memory.
I looked away. I did not want
for him to see the tears
That sprang unbidden to his
father's eyes.
When you watch them grow, you
always hope to see
Something of the child you were in how they live their lives.
My boy's gone, too soon escaped from
this old Earth
I don't think he knew that white
hot Texas summer he
Would carve a moment into time
that in the decades passing
Ever after
always would belong alone to me.© 2014 by Tom King
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