Mental Snapshot

The river flew into his shoulder.
a cloud perched on the top of his quiff
(blown about a bit by the day
becoming colder) .

A train entered his left ear and
departed from his right.

Birds scattered & clattered from his
outstretched hand.

I was his little boy &
he was my big man.

I took four steps to every one of his
tying manfully to fit into his stride.

I was holding his hand
& crying.

I still remember my Dad
on that day

exactly as he was

when the river flew into his shoulder

And the rain fell all about him


my mind
went click


captured it

turning it
the treasure
of forever.

by Dónall Dempsey

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