Imagine a man standing under Sycamore trees
Near a slow moving stream.
Imagine behind him young mothers push strollers.
It is Autumn. Wind rustles the aging yellow leaves flutter.
He has been here many times before.
He is watching turtles slip from a fallen tree into the stream.
Imagine a few leaves twist upward and fall. The trees are letting go.
I remember letting go of my father’s hand running to a stream we were about to fish.
I remember him letting go laughing carrying long thin rods.
Imagine small ducks drift across the shimmering water
And the leaves letting go of air and color surrender to the stream.
Small fish swim in the water feeding.
I imagine my wife behind the man pulling her sweater over her shoulders.
Maybe life is one long lesson in letting go.
Too soon, I will have to let go of all of this.
Imagine letting go of the man, the stream, the park,
All disappearing into the golden light pushing up through the Sycamore trees.
Imagine the light disappearing.