Perhaps it's absurd to be this concerned
yet I fret I won't see you again.
And I know it's alright
and just one more night,
but in your eyes I see our end.
The end of your mom's teasing
and your laugh as you shrug her off;
the end of John's timid delight
as we play our noise through the night
in a cautiously curious sound;
the end of your father and me
jeering to hockey --
a sight already rare to be found.
I don't want to miss
the joy and the bliss
in moments you are around.
Call me a child,
immature, naive, or too mild
but your smile is too captivating for rhyme.