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.