Smalltime

A poem about spending time with a toddler

Smalltime

Smalltime

is blown through
and through
the trees
dancing

to see the sodden
blackbough shaking off
glow-red leaves to
revealself

true
in curving and
branching estatic
my smallson is

the windwhirl
running Daddy I jumping
I going up
ing fall-oving

blown through
the trees
dancing
smalltime is

First published in Write Under the Moon