Some moments just beg to be stretched out. 4-26-2021 |
My Boys The long, black, arrowed hands of the clock ticked backward, the man in the moon opted to go back to bed and the sun hung red on the horizon, caught in the decision to sink or swim into the evening-- and the day stretched out its hands grasping at the still bare branches of the birch trees, scarlet fingers clinging even as the little man pulled at Great--grampa's hand pleading to stay out and play just a little bit longer. Bathtime loomed, then passed because my boys were playing some version of catch where one throws, the other misses with glee and the thrower retrieves the ball to try again. Giggles and chortles accompany the barking of the dog who also enjoys this game of miss. Bathwater can always be warmed up, and this is one of those times that scurry by and you don't always get a second chance. Damp little boy, smelling of vanilla and gardenia scented bubbles-- he helped me add it to rewarmed water. There wasn't all that much left anyway. Damp old man, smelling of vanilla and clove soap wrapped in his tattered and comfy blue bathrobe brings me little man's tattered and comfy blue blanket. Kissed and snuggled, sweet-dreamed and love you-ed, both my boys are off to bed because in the morning, time will reset, the alarm will go off at four and the re-energized duo will start another day. 39 lines |