Friday, July 1, 2011

Forty-Two

he teeters up the grey stone sidewalk
shivering in his tiny frame
his muscles swish and swirl
to a beat that can't be contained

with all his strength he pushes his fingers
together into a wobbly namaste
he smiles gap-toothed, his lips curling and
twitching, his eyes wandering astray

when he squeals with delight
it's like the sun just dropped a seed
which hatched into a burst
of yellow

i could scoop him in my arms
and carry him far
where his jittery bones
won't be disturbed
by the messy obstacle course that is
this world

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