The Last Egg Hunt

This is the last year he can do
The egg hunt in our park
Next year he will be
Too old for this

Eh that's okay
He says

I can't tell if his lack of enthusiasm is genuine
Maybe he is
Too old for this

But

As they line up
Behind the caution tape
A glimmer
A spark
Behind the eyes
He starts rocking back and forth on his feet
As the announcer teases,
On your marks, get set

With Go
Were are now at full fledged
Ear-to-ear smile
As he races of into the snowy park
Beaming with each plastic treasure that he
Quickly stuffs
Into his rabbit shaped basket

After he has gathered his quota
He bounces back to where we wait for him
Still grinning

Shwew
He says
That was a lot of fun

He can't be too old for this

My Favorite Song

There is no music playing
but I am listening to
my favorite song

Two soprano voices calling
Tiny birds in spring

They are not in unison
(never unison)
but often in harmony
as the melody flits and skirts

Occasionally I will catch a random word
like watching a foreign film in a language
you took two semesters of in college

Mommy
Daddy
Doggy
Sissy

It is playtime

Dancing

Her knees are 90 degree angles
She is bent forward like a senior
One arm is a Z
The other an S
Bending side to side

       in

                         no


       discernible

                        rhythym

Hop
Hop
Hop

Pause (vogue)

HopHop

And then the secret weapon
Smiling ear to ear
Dimples so deep light doesn't reach the bottom

Joyfully dancing