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.