His blond hair waving in the wind,
Or his blue eyes charting the stars.
He’s grown now,
He no longer needs me
Runs to his shelter
Sits in my lap for sweet caresses.
Come back my little boy.
Drink my milk
Let me raise you once more –
high in the sky.
Then let your feet touch the ground.
But then he’ll be old again
(So will I).
And once more I’ll miss his smiles,
His skinned knees,
And that muddy appearance
When he returns from a hard day of play
So then once more I’ll be
He dove into the pile
The hues of yellow and brown
Clashed with the red white and blue suit
As he buried himself in the pile.
Only the wind could be heard
But a leaf emancipating itself from the pile.
Then the blond head,
A little nose, a smile
And finally the entire jolly body
This was written in 1993 and posted for Blue Bell Books Short Story Slam Week 12:
Image Credit: Sweetestsin2862