A sunny day alone in the woods,
I think of the time my father
walked by my side.
Down the trails we went,
when I was just a boy.
Time spent with my father,
doing things men do together.
Walking up the steep hills,
jumping over fallen logs,
stomping through mud.
and breaking a sweat.
Stopping to drink water from a creek,
we paused and he smiled at me.
He made a walking stick for us,
out of a fallen Oak limb.
My mother and sisters seemed to not exist that day.
It was just me and my dad, alone in the woods.
I think back on it as I walk the trail now,
a different place in a different time.