Today I arrived at a place, called home.
My son was in the car with his friend, laughing.
I was carrying my keys, holding his hand.
Telling him how wonderful life was, if only a moment to enjoy.
The sky was blue, with tender drops of cool rain falling down.
Yet we were happy, in peaceful seconds as father and son.
He does not wonder as I do, about how these days may pass.
But he teaches me more than I can learn, if only to be a child once more.
Last 5 posts in Creative Writing
- The Sword and the Stone - July 10th, 2008
- The way people live - July 11th, 2007
- There was a day - May 11th, 2007
- If the world hates, hate me - March 20th, 2007
- Some cafe writing - December 30th, 2006
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