Winter

Everything is dead at the park.  I pull you in on my lap and squeeze you, breathing in your smell.  I kiss the back of your neck and play with your hair while you fumble with your new happy meal toy.  I remind myself that these are the moments.  I try to silence my mind and be present.  The wind bites and I’m miserable.

Everything is so bleak that I’m actually inspired to create.  “Winter”, it will be called.  Harsh shadows, blown out skies, an empty public pool littered with dead leaves, shut down behind a metal fence.  You start to sour when I take my camera out.  It’s time to go.  It’s nap time.

And somehow I am still happy and savoring this.  It’s my last season of mornings with you.  I will come back to this park one day when you are older and I will remember all of this.

 

 

 

1 Comment

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January 12, 2019 at 5:47 AM

Ah, Julie. It makes me want to hold you in my arms and play with your hair. It makes me want to comfort you and give you rest. I adore you.

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