At dusk I skied behind our youngest son
Along a double track with grooves to guide,
In air so still so clear so thin I thought
At last we must begin to float or fly.
With him ahead afraid if left behind
I’d be glad to follow fast, but these legs
Can’t keep with his, born to this winter play–
I’ve been before and know how we are led.
He pauses, hands outstretched atop his poles,
To face a brilliant moon we both can see
Now, just beyond the crowded, tangled trees.
Too far passed to hear the prayer or promise,
I’m sad I’ll miss what then he might have said,
Wond’ring, of blessing, bane or Great Amen.
Copyright (c) 2020 Samuel Hamer
Samuel Hamer is a practicing attorney in Minnesota. He earned degrees in physics from Wheaton College and in law from Harvard Law School. His occasional poetry considers themes of faith, doubt, and family. Sam lives with his wife, Naomi, and three boys near Minneapolis.
Photo credit: Photo by Ilya Shishikhin on Unsplash
