Pokemon Days

Not a whole lot going on today - guess I'll clean out my junk. Here's a rubber band around some cards on the bottom of my trunk. I don't think Dan would want these Pokemon cards. He's on the other coast in a far-off land called New York City, in the legal practice, engrossed. He knew every kind of Poke-critter, each and every power. If he would show as much interest in school as Poke-facts he would devour! In those days, he liked to tag along, counting fishes in a brook. He would listen so attentively as I read to him a book. He was gentle, kind and innocent, such were his quiet ways. How, fondly I remember my son back in those Poke-days. He would tell me 'bout each Poke-beast, but I couldn't get it straight. I was busy taking care of things and couldn't quite relate. There was Pikachu, the Poke-star, the brightest of the bright. Yet, my gentle son, had more use for Machop who knew just how to fight. Daniel is now capable and strong. He doesn't need Machop. I suppose I can throw away these cards, this train of thought to stop. Yet, maybe these cards have magic. Could Machop help me today - in my oldness and my greyness? I better put these cards away.