Sunday, June 20, 2010

Whether Mukluks or Loafers

three years old I followed in his footsteps
returning with a battered box
he surrendered his treasure to daddy's princess
portal to a new world, watching through the lens
shutter click like a door slamming behind me
another in the long hallway I would travel
first, limbs dangling, held on his arm
then a mile high on his shoulders
hands clasped side-by-side
now two steps ahead, checking behind seldom
but always certain he'll still be there
because even as I lead the way
I'm walking in his footsteps

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