Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2018
I wonder always how he’s doing
His face is
His eyes are green and his name means "little fire"
He reaches his hands for me to swirl him around the room
It’s a complicated thing to be helpful when you’re atmospheric,
at the junction between
amongst all other skyward objects
closer to him than I’ll ever get to be.
It rains so often in Florida, I can feel it
in the back of my eyes,
like an uncertain fluid that burns so saliently.
I pray hard he won’t drown his
small, eager heart
in those days that the sun was
decidedly absent from his youthful Spring backyard
full of snakes and sharks who just want to be friends,
but evolution and psychology say they have
no chance
For Aidan
Danielle S
Written by
Danielle S  29/F/FL
Please log in to view and add comments on poems