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.