Fathers Day

Footsteps free-fall he heard
in my yesterday world
lopping up our close
or near the window clear
his footsteps drawing near
my hands on the windowsill

A child still dreams
and schemes for yesterday
and the trunk cut badly down
my moonlitght and my darkness
Creator and curator
the icing on my mind
and thread of yesterday

A shooting star like yours
sweeping across the clouds
A smile on your face
and a tickle on your nose
as pocket-money tips
on jumping hands

Shadows now are lighter
but memories ever clear
Icy skips in frosty lanes
rough stones at Southend
and visits to the queen
my magic memory dad