The general
Heavy laden sky
warm breeze
we risk the walk.
Hurling stones
Scattering ladybirds
Collecting shells
Skimming bouncers
Along stones’ banks
Against the greened sea
slowly waging his battle
the general of all he can see
100m behind us
But far ahead in the walk’s call
He ignores every shout
Impervious to the deepening rain
Unmoved by the hardening wind
I see him alone
Silhouetted against the rising storm
Beyond reach if waves
Should crush him
He looks up
Not alarmed
Swaggers towards us slowly
His pace to say, “I’m ok Dad”
But chatting us up at last
Before the car
I feel his hand hard
As if to say
We both knew this walk
Would one day come.
Dadhood 