Moon over Parma, the same moon Neil Armstrong of Cleveland walked on, the same moon that still shines on the place of my birth and youth, the pond where I caught a fish and cried for it and the well whence strong arms carried buckets of water and my fathers old house cobbled together from spare parts and love and the covered bridge pavilion we ate lunches under and the basement full of worked-wood and jarred-preserves and the tractor whose trailer, made by a young man in shop class, I rode in the back of and the treehouse we built of unplaned boards and the swing over the cliff over the creek. And the echoes of our laughter still bouncing off the trees. Sweet dreams, Grandpa. https://youtube/watch?v=HgGCO5eGdnE
Posted on: Sat, 03 Jan 2015 22:06:49 +0000
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