dance with his father.

April 25, 2013 § 12 Comments

As a kid he was
naive and innocent
and nerdy and alone.
He chose his own company
o’er everyone else.
The books, the music,
the magazines, the cartoons;
amused him.

And then he grew up.

He now only remembers his
fathers gentle laughter
and, the way he carried
him in his arms.
He remembers how the
sunshine poured lazy rays
upon untainted walls.
And how they watched
The Lion King together
mouthing dialogues.

But mostly he remembers
how he danced with his father.

Dance with my father

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