Friday, September 2, 2011

P.S. 49

Sweetness seizes and surprises me

With a grip as vise-like and sudden

As any sorrow: the sight

At twilight of Sarah laughing, running 



Toward me, our baby Sequoia over one slender shoulder,

Baby giggling madly, fat arms out flopping,

Like some chubby cartoon airplane,

Flying down a canyon road, 



A  vision brief but overwhelming,

That this is my life, a simple birthday celebration

In dragon mountains' dark blue air

Where my wife and daughter play.

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