A walk with you, father
There’s spirituality in a walk with you, father.
Our steady pace on city sidewalks gives way
to a leisurely stroll on a far country lane.
Our strides match in tempo over pebbles
dug in dirt, and we breathe in the sweet scent
of honeysuckle stirring along hedgerows.
Years fall away as memories of my childhood
greet us in the tinkle of an ice cream truck
ahead, with its promise of a summer treat.
Only people can make dreams come true
you say, as you turn to look into my eyes.
A ladybug alights on the back of my hand.
We laugh and pause to watch her crawl
toward my thumb.
Didn’t her house catch on fire and her children
were left alone? Fly away home ladybug!
Don’t you remember you were the magician
and I the ballerina you brought to life
out of the packing box in the closet?
How larger-than-life you stood in your blue cape
and wizard’s wand mom sewed for us that day!
Being with you father is like attending church,
in the same mysterious way my soul
is strengthened for the daily routine of living.
We call out a greeting to a passerby,
and I bend down to tie my shoelace
and finger a late blooming crocus.
You continue on before you realize I’m
not coming. I straighten and let go of the bulb.
The morning dew gently rolls off my thumb.
After all, it was part of my dream about you
last night, and I follow in your footsteps.
Copyright 2024 by Liz Fortini
Liz Fortini has been reading poetry and prose for many years. In addition to translating poems of French and Italian poets into English, Liz also submits her poetry to Havik: The Las Positas College Journal of Arts & Literature. She lives in Northern California with her husband Ron, and their dog Jax. Liz is a lover of nature.
30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review
