so many motherhood moments i would preserve, sealed in amber bottles and lining miles of rooms or etched on tinted film and shining on walls i might wander like galleries, all of them pressed upon my soul for safekeeping, all of them at the ready for replaying on repeat, and good gracious this one is up, up, up there: boy, building worlds of blocks, soft belly, clever toes, arms stretching farther and farther, hands always, ever, seeking sun-stars-moon-heaven.
No comments:
Post a Comment