fathers (day 169)

on a day for fathers, there are none, in my world. no stubble chin, strong arms, baseballs thrown, hugs that lift you off the ground… larger than life, always safe, invincible, but not here. 6.18.17

my son (day 168)

eyes, deep chocolate brown, longing to be seen. lashes so long they sweep his face, my beautiful son. towering tall, always so ready to grow, still a boy, nearing a man; his gentleness masks all he feels. i kiss him good night as long as he lets me… sleep tight. 6.17.17

summer cold (day 167)

the damp has stuffed my head, i feel top-heavy and slow. edges are soft, color bleed and i plod on tipsy, averting a stumble. 6.16.17

navigator (day 166)

stay the course i steer my ship to calmer waters, past shallow shores, rocky inlets or choppy seas. steady, i go each turn growing sure of my navigation to my route ahead. 6.15.17

day 165

i dare not revel in the sun with its inconstant beauty fickle in its presence yet still demanding worship like the first flush of love which fades to soft admiration 6.14.17