You Stand There

You stand there trophy in hand

frozen in a fraction

of times great span

a boy of seven

a son whose snapshot

I adore

glimpses of you

refresh my memory

of your physical form

updating my catalogue

‘lest I forget

my heart’s regret

of the days, weeks

month’s, of absence,

wringing drops of

sunshine out of my soul

to touch, kiss

the softness

your giggling softness

that I long for.

You stand there trophy in hand

staring back at me

with frozen glance

no pleading, shaking or demands

can change this flimsy image

this frozen little league man

that smiles but doesn’t speak

doesn’t laugh, doesn’t tell me

all his silly, yet

poignant wonderings

of future man

this boy of seven

with trophy in hand.

©Jay Mora-Shihadeh

Photo by SKINT on Unsplash

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