the train cars rock gently as we curve along the river

smoke billowing, the steam engine blasts a greeting to those we pass

i had planned a fly fishing trip for you and your dad, just before you were hurt, changed forever…and now gone

i can almost make you out between the branches at the river’s edge…as your line whips in graceful arcs, just touching the water’s surface, teasing, and touching again

i know you are here, though not in a way my eyes can see; this would be your heaven

©️2025