Sunday, February 13, 2011

Winter Writings: Day 55

One perfect moment
on a crisp spring day
with tree fingered shadows
clawing the dirt driveway and
overhead, the blinding green
of new born leaves
and the unrelenting celebration
of birdsong.
You run towards me
with your arms outstretched
a silly, sloppy smile
stretches across your face,
that is dusted with contellations
of a thousand freckled stars.
Denim clad legs churn up
clouds of chocolate dust
and your feet sing
with the sheer joy of flying.
One perfect moment
captured in a random photograph
slightly yellowed at the edges
more valuable than gold.
I still look at you every day
and relive that moment
when you were three
and not like now
already grown
and too dignified
to abandon yourself to
a bright spring day.

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