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Time and again I fall behind my father.

No matter how hard I try to keep up,

The distance grows.

When he reaches the bridge

He slows down.

With one hand on the railing,

His feet firmly on the pedals,

He waits for me.

The distance shrinks while

The wind breathes in my hair

Like he must have done long ago.

But just before I reach him,

He takes off again 

The distance grows once more

And my father becomes a back again.

17:21 Gepost door Paule in Algemeen | Permalink | Commentaren (2) | Tags: family affairs, dailies |  Facebook |


Er moet toch iemand haantje de voorste zijn!

Gepost door: Martine | 16-04-08

Heel plastisch, zie het zo voor me.Autobiografisch?

Gepost door: FritsKe | 10-05-08

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