Spring
My son sits at the pinnacleof the slide, grinning, his downy
hair standing up like a halo,
the evening sun bright behind him.
He lifts his arms, says, Ready,
Set, Go! and wends down
to where I'm waiting.
He slides too far, falling
onto his behind, laughing,
repeating already, Go again?
as if I am about to say
it is time for us to go,
as if I am about to tell him
that this day is almost finished.
posted by the shadow waters @ 7:39 PM
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