historians
behold the treasures
of old

singers
paint the
words you
wish you could
say

mothers
cradle
and fathers
embrace
brothers
sigh with resigned impatience
and sisters
fuss

but
from all that
there is one
person
you love

the boy
in the
plaid
striped
coat
dyed
indigo

for he
just
called you
"love"
with those
startling
indigo
sunset
eyes
forced open wide

a crooked smile
with
just the right
degree of wild