I remember he told me once about a wagon.
And it changed from red to orange.
Small to big.
I just laughed at the memory loss then.
My father getting older.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
When I reflect back on that wagon,
It gets a little fuzzy and clouded.
I was just a child when you told me about the wagon,
we were on our way to get ice cream.
I´m older and smarter.
The wagon changes once more.
No longer small red barn wood,
decaying with sunlight.
The wagon turned to an
blue lights flashing.
Then another morph,
ambulance turns to