Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue |
A tiny hat upon a newborn boy’s head, His hospital bracelet tight as a bear hug around his wrist. A weathered blanket trailing behind him, His thumb wedged between his lips. A robin’s egg from a fallen tree, His palms cupping it protectively. A ripped pair of jeans hanging low on his hips, His fingers hooked through the belt loops. A sand castle standing tall, His hand in hers as they admire their work. A diamond ring tucked in his pocket, His fingers fumbling as he gets down on one knee. A wife-to-be walking wordlessly with poise, Her fists clenched confidently around her bouquet. A year gone by, His hand still intertwined with hers. A tiny hat upon a newborn boy’s head, His hospital bracelet tight as a bear hug around his wrist. A daddy now, he holds his son, His patting palm unsure on the baby’s back. A sand bucket tossed into the trunk, His hands grasped tightly on the steering wheel. A beach vacation with their little boy, His camera clicks, fossilizing a fragment of time. A wave crashes on the shore, washing in seashells, erasing footprints, His watch reads noon; the sun is high. A car for their son’s sixteenth birthday, His palm patting the hood. A son home for the holidays, His new daughter-in-law’s handshake firm. A tiny hat upon a newborn boy’s head, His hospital bracelet tight as a bear hug around his wrist. A grandpa now, His arms cradling the infant lovingly. A school play, His grandson waving from the stage. A grandson who has grown up too, His fingers flip through the photo album, reminiscing. A man who knows he has gotten old, His weathered, blue-veined hands tremble with truth. A day like any other, His fingers trace the outlines of clouds one last time. An end to every story, His last salute goodbye. |