For One Bright Bounding Ball
ONE BRIGHT BOUNDING BALL OF A YEAR
Climbing piles of warm clothes,
freshly folded from the drier,
you pose, triumphantly smiling,
beneath the soft glow of a lamp…
its dimmed halogen amber.
Toys, tumble from your hand
in a jumble of color, your face,
red like the flames of your hair,
encircles the deep blue pools
of your eyes, transfixed upon
A hanging chandelier, that
lit and turning like the cosmos,
fills the scope of your eyes,
scanning the perimeter of it’s
prismatic light. For nearly one
Bright bounding ball of a year,
you have rolled, tumbled, stumbled
and crawled into each newfound
corner of our lives. Now, wrapped
in a warm towel, your skin, soft
And pliable from talcum powder,
I thumb the dough of your face,
into a smile, cheeks rising like
flour from a baker’s window.
And now, pleasurably fatigued,
from the throb and pang of your
eyeteeth hammering through, I
stay up later, in the dark, rocking
you to sleep, knowing we will
never quite be this intimate again.
Copyright © John Tansey | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment