First memory

If I close my eyes I can imagine
I am back there.
Two years old I'm sitting
on the white metal donkey,
rocking back and forth.
Mother, at my side, is laughing.
Families are splashing in the pool
having holiday fun.
There's the smell of fried
food and candy floss.

Then I see my father
striding towards us.
In his hand he clutches
ice-cream cones.
Mother's laughter dies away
as father's figure eclipses the sun.