For Don

For Don.

by Timothy D. Capehart

I remember
things you might not expect...
the stride of your legs as you came to our door
with three pumpkins
ripe and ready for carving,
the smile on your face
and the smell of
your blue-green coveralls,
and your large hands
when you cleaned me up after play.
But mostly I remember
the smile on your face
while she watched
the two of us
laughing.