I stood with my father in the
shop, by the register.  

the eager, blue eyes of
a toddler

-bright blonde hair,
minature hand treasuring a

promised lollipop- met old
ones so sorely remembering the

likeness to that boy my brother and
I held, all those years ago.

his little face nearly exploded
in a smile up at the kind,

weathered man. my father smiled,
no, laughed back in a spontaneous

outburst of appreciation at this
glimpse thirty odd years back in

time, where either one of his
two little gods of pride

looked up; back, and
smiled with their little hearts

full of safe, soft, adoring life.
so far from the two rugged men

we've become.
towering, no longer

asking for anything.
for a few seconds, I saw divinity

between the
two of them,

and
thanked.