Over Me

I found an old picture yesterday.

It was of me and my dad,

taken from behind

as we sat on a rock, like the kings of the mountain.

I think I was eight then,

and even sitting, his head,

50 years older than mine, could look over mine,

could look past mine.

I have grown, since then-

sometimes it is my head looking over his

and we aren't kings of the mountain,

but I'm sure we can still find ourselves in that picture.