I can remember
when you ran
to meet me
little-child head
ramming into my stomach
rounded face turned up
with a gap-toothed smile.
Now I am swooped up
and spun in a circle
slightly crushed
set down a little breathless.
I turn my face up
bewildered
to say
that cliche
good grief how you've grown
You make me feel old
but worse
you make me feel wise.
2 comments:
I feel the same.
I say we kidnap him into the bush.
I would use my sword and you would use yours and we'd march him in there with our sword points at his back.
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