Little Boy

Published Date: August 15th, 2008
Category: Poetry


Sour milk and

sticky apple juice fingers

brushed through

Baby shampoo-ed hair


Unwashed teddy bears and

slightly dank blankies

resting next to your warm body encased in

Dreft-washed Elmo PJs


Then of course there are the aromas of

belly laughs and

dark, dark eyes and

the eternal smiles of sleep


The small grasp of your

somehow strong finger while you

dream of times that still

have no meaning to you


I creep into your room and rest my

head softly upon yours

inhaling all that is the

little boy in you


And wish that I

could just bottle

this moment




This entry was posted on Friday, August 15th, 2008 at 5:22 pm and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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