To be given the task at 11 or 12
Of filling the gas tank of the old lawnmower
As the warm July sun dropped its late shadows across the oil field
Or to pull the wet leaves from a gutter catch 10 feet off the ground
Or to clean the paint brushes in an old Folgers can filled with turpentine
All under watchful, trusting and loving eyes
It's these little things I miss
The devil is in the details they say
But so then are the angels
And I hope I am as surrounded by them on my last days
As I am today
The memories we've stashed away
Between those long, heroic summer shadows
Often reach back for us
A beacon for the seasons ahead
~nicolas hall 2012
...but so then are the angels... what a marvelous thought...
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