Friday, March 13, 2015

Short stint

Not so long ago
Your head fit in my palm
I look again today
My hands are normal
Far from gargantuan
I think I blinked
The customary forty winks
Where did time go
Was I enshrined
In suspended animation
Is the time continuum
Inflated exponentially
Age is just a number
While I stop tallying mine
You accumulate digits to yours


  1. When I held my oldest in my hands for the first time after she was born, she cooed like the tiniest of birds... where did the years go. Nicely said.

  2. This is superb. Such a well-worded testimony to the passage of time and its resulting effects.

    "I think I blinked
    The customary forty winks"


  3. A wonderful memory.. and bittersweet in all those years gone by..

  4. Beautiful piece - I have a little daughter who is about two and half years now, and everyday watching her grow is so much fun. Loved your writing.

  5. Ah, age is just a number. We do need to remember that! I enjoyed your poem.

  6. Funny how the spirit of the child can grow older while the spirit of the parent grows younger.. truly youth is a state of spirit in mind.. as the young become old and the old become young..:)

  7. Where do the years go indeed. How can my tiny babies be adults in their own right with children of their own?
    Anna :o]

  8. That tiny head that used to fit in your hand...what a lovely and sweet memory. Years go too quickly. Hayes Spencer is Kanzensakura


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