Friday, April 26, 2013

A Fathers Regret

I believed the loading towers in the truck yard were the two towers from the book and that truckers didn't mind a kid motioning for them to honk their horns.  I thought the graffiti for The Who on the far side of the overpass would last forever. I hoped for toys and thought my parents were made of money and did see it as a bad part of town.  I had friends and fun and youth that only seems shining upon reflection.  Golden falls and warm springs all wrapped in the freedom of long bike rides that never concerned my parents.  My journeys were never spoken but would have shocked them in distance and determination. I even jumped in the pool with my clothes on and they were none the wiser.  It was glorious and gone in the wink of an eye and now I can't seem to pass it along to my child. 

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