Childhood Memory

When I was a little girl unaware of life and evil, Father would take me to the park with him; I loved the ducks and how sweetly they floated there, Father would sit on a park bench watching me feeding ducks. The ducks would come to me without hesitation, They knew nothing about corruption or evil; Ugliness in the world did not exist in this peaceful park, It was so soothing beneath the trees to just talk and sit. Oh, to go back to those days of the innocent child, Who would ask father question after question; Under those swaying leaves with pretty ducks drifting by, He talked to me about life and nature on that park bench. I went back to the park recently to visit that old bench, It still remains as I recall where me and father sat; Lingering there I watched the ducks drifting and remembered, A gentle breeze touched my hair and I imagined it was father. Sitting on the park bench with me . . . . ___________________________ February 13, 2016 (Edit) Poetry/Verse/Childhood Memory Copyright Protected, ID 16-1218-666-0 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. Submitted into the contest, Strand Choice 3 sponsor, Brian Strand Third Place