Outside a robin hops
from a crusted snow pile
to the matted spring grass.
I stand at the window and watch,
while the echo of quiet play
mixed with soft humming
drifts out of the nearby bedroom
and into the hallway,
coming from a son
who is supposed
to be getting dressed —
but who has found absorption
in a long-forgotten toy.
I wish I could move
to see him,
but I don’t dare
stir the light
or sound the floorboards.
My body is warmed by the sun
before a shouted question
from downstairs intrudes
and the moment drains away.
A very special poem. You paint a fine portrait of the moment. A breath, in and out, that anchors a little piece of time. Warmly, Tasha
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The moment was you, at that window in that sun…listening…
Lovely!
Indeed – and it is always going to drain or fade or change… Thanks, as always Johnny, for reading and taking the time to comment. Be well~
ha!, an eternal moment
Too true, Mark…
You have a beautiful way of capturing a particular moment. It’s a real gift.
Thank you, Don – your thoughtful comment is a gift, too. I appreciate you reading and taking some time to share your thoughts, as always. Be well this day~
Another moment deftly captured – really nice.
Thank you, as always. I am so fortunate to be there to capture them… Be well~
These are precious moments which you have captured in your poem, as a way of keeping warm in the sun. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Thank you so much for reading and for sharing your thoughts, Clare. They are precious moments, indeed – which makes it especially difficult not to cling too tightly to them. Be well~
Sweet. . . your poems about your son’s strike such a chord with me, how those simple moments are so poignant.
Thank you so much, Charlotte, I am so happy to hear that. Be well this day~