Seasonal Starwars

As the rain started  
I thought of dashing for the car  
and the umbrella in the boot,  
annoyed by windscreen condensation.  

You tried not to blink  
and walked like a bouncer  
giving the sky an evil eye.  
You then drew a smiley face on your window.  
 
As snowflakes fell  
I thought of salt  
and clearing driveways,  
wondering if I would get to work in the morning.  
 
You tried to catch each crystal,  
first like a goalkeeper,  
then in your mouth.  
Your breakfast footprints were first in the garden.  
 
As the wind rattled the house  
I thought of buckled fences  
and blown over rubbish bins,  
with a screwed up face I tried to tie it all down.  
 
You raised a school coat sail  
and skateboarded up the hill,  
then with your cape flapping  
you looked down, scouring the city for criminals.  
 
As the sun became unbearable  
I thought of factor 30  
and finding shade,  
complaining about the heat and sweating.  
 
You waged water pistol wars  
filling balloons at the outside tap.  
squealing round the garden  
being chased in just your underpants.  
 
Now you have children of your own  
and worry about, umbrellas, factor 30  
and blown over rubbish,  
I'm old and want to make the most of my days,
each season skips by like hours on a clock face.
 
You're taking me home  
for our usual Sunday lunch,
driving into heavy snow  
but I’m sitting in a star-field  
piloting an X-wing and  
about to make the jump to hyperspace.