| Remebering
Dad ©
by Rebecca Case
The lane leading to the woods is littered with fallen leaves.
Rain falls in tapping sounds upon them. I walk along as I
have before, but today you are not with me. It makes it different.
I
am still content that in these woods; part of our home, the
playground of my childhood, lives solitude without loneliness.
You told me this once. And I think about how much I loved
you.
Rain slows to a drizzle. Tapping sounds become fewer. I linger
and the sun creeps around the corner of a cloud brightening
to shy. Through open spaces of towering trees speckled with
papery leaves sun and sky add to black and white grays, silver
then sapphire.
Leaves
on the ground glisten. Gold is more golden. Warm reds shimmer
deeply. Colors embrace the sun’s yellow casting light.
The lane curves to the left and I follow as I have before.
It winds down steeply. I stop halfway.
Here,
I can see much of the woods.
There,
Firmly rooted opposite me on the other side of the creek bed
Pale bark contrasting the other trees
Tall, gnarly, reaching stood
the
sycamore I found beautiful because as we walked down this
lane together long ago I jokingly told you that the sycamore
didn’t follow rules. It made good on its dare to be
different among the other trees.
Rebecca
Case (copyright 2013—all rights reserved)
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The
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