Fading Footsteps

Four footsteps in soft mud, two small, two large. One forward, one behind, winding ever forward with lessons along the way. Growing until they match, like reflections. When the pace changes and they switch, I will not leave you behind. You taught me to look forward, hold up my chin, be careful, and be kind. Though the lessons were taught, counted in mismatched footsteps, I find, as yours fall back, that I cannot forgive time.