The Street My Father Walked On

My father's big hand held my little hand and we walked on the street. My father's tall figure was the sky that held up for me. In a daze, I held my son's little hand and walked down the street where my father took me. It felt like I was in another world, which often gave me the illusion. The tall father and the warm hands still feel so real. Today is no longer yesterday, it is my father's big hand holding the little hand. It makes me teary-eyed every moment, father and son, son and son. Big hands holding little hands, walking on the same street...