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
#littleleague #son #poet #poem

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