By Wendy Shywalker

"Quit dogging me Pop, just quit dogging me " my son, shouted as he walked away.
I did not know I was, as he said "Dogging him."
I thought I was being a father, the protector of my child. " If the son can
protect the father, cannot the father protect the son, the 'Child' "

'Child' as I watched him storm away from me, it was the strides of man that put distance between us. The soft heel of a child's feet, were now an echo inthe corridorsof time.
Time that had stolen that child so cruely from both of us.

It is hard to see a man when the last time you saw him, you threw
baseballs and played catch.

Its hard to see the man when the last time you saw him, you were punishing
him with scrubbing floors and holding him when the dragons came, in the night.

It is hard to see the man when the last time you saw him, you found an
absolute joy in a sons laughter as a game of tug of war was lost.

But a man he is, he has suffered as a man can suffer,
he has loved, as a man can love,
he has lost, as a man has lost,
as I have lost.

But I see that 'Child ' behind his eyes, he thinks he's hidden from view.
but I remember that child all too well.
And as he rebuked my shadow, I saw the child emerge, frightened for his father.
But then the man took control " I am a cop, I protect people. Thats what I am, thats what I do "