Father's Day

The Perkiomen Creek used to have mist that rose off it right as dawn lifted and once I scooped it into my hand and touched it to my face. I was 8, maybe 9. It felt like I was putting the whole dream of living up to my cheek. It didn’t feel cottony or whatever. That would be dumb. It didn’t even feel like much at all.

I was just a kid in a row boat with h…