You held my hand as I held 
Crumbling, white bread, rubbing
My  five year old fingers along
Cotton candy blue daddy pants
Saddle shod feet hit the ground
No longer stroller bound, trying to keep up with the sound
Of your white, wing tipped, walking
Shoes slamming slush behind you
In front of me
The canal iced over.

— by Gretchen Yolande McGill