He swirls into the kitchen with a grin on his face.
His favourite song plays on the radio.
Hips and shoulders move to the rhythm.
This is my own private show.
His body moves fast; he almost loses balance.
His pre-adolescent legs getting longer every day.
He grabs my arms and raises them above my head.
We twist about together, socks on tile floor.
Laughing and breathless we dance until it ends.
He hugs me tight before he dashes off quicker than he arrived.
Him back to his games and me making his dinner.
A once daily ritual now less frequent than before.
My little boy is growing up, soon a little boy no more.
Copyright © Donna Butler | Year Posted 2017
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment