To His Dad
By birksy
Tired eyes, half shut, he rests, head in his mother’s lap, watching the scene, but only remembering the interval ice-cream. His hand rests, so light on my arm, it means the world to me. He’ll be grown up soon, sitting in his own seat, I hope he still wants to hold on to his Dad. Written December 14th, 2001 © on Dec 17 2001 01:46 AM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 8
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"Tired eyes, half shut,..."