I stepped outside

And it hit me like a wave;

The smell of fresh dirt;

The forest floor and raspberries.

Fresh raspberries.

Right there on the cement

Surrounded by cars and buildings.

Heartfelt memories tugging.

Tugging.

A scent that cannot be duplicated by man.

I knew instantly in my heart it was my father,

Gone 20 years now.

I was taken back to childhood

Days and picking delicious raspberries in the woods;

Eating more than ended up in the bowl.

I composed myself and

Walked to my car.

Sitting in the front seat;

Missing him.

I turned the key to start the

Engine

And there was his song playing.

The one my siblings and I requested on the Radio station the day of his funeral.

I am glad he reminds me he is near.