When he was four

He met me at the door

I was trapping then, still learning how to score

When he was five, He met me outside

He would see what was with me

I might have had five
 
 

When he was six

He was in an accident

I stayed out of the field

To help care for him

When he was seven

He wondered about heaven

I could not think

Of going without him
 
 

When he was eight

He was forever a quadriplegic

I smiled and said we will be fine

The field’s no big deal

When he was nine

Dad he said go to the field again

He was all mind

Trapping he said was mighty fine
 
 

When he was ten

He said Dad do you still trap then

All I said was now and again

When he was eleven

He asked Dad show me them

We would smile, as he looked over them
 
 

When he was twelve

He always met me at the door

I would show him more and more

When he was thirteen

His pain was no more

Now trapping with me

On the line forever more