On this journey,
I’ll hold your hand,
And dip your toes in first,
So you don’t feel too much.
I’ll bring your yellow blanket
With the soft ridges, and
The coffee stain from
That Christmas.
No, I won’t forget to bring
The picture of your dad
In the garage, wearing blue Levi’s
During his last summer.
When the sun descends,
And rests just above the horizon,
I’ll sweep your brittle hair back,
And kiss your forehead.
With the orange glow
Bouncing off your eyes,
We’ll watch it disappear,
And soon be together again.
Jan 8, 2025
Jan 8, 2025 at 6:41 AM UTC
On this journey,
I’ll hold your hand,
And dip your toes in first,
So you don’t feel too much.
I’ll bring your yellow blanket
With the soft ridges, and
The coffee stain from
That Christmas.
No, I won’t forget to bring
The picture of your dad
In the garage, wearing blue Levi’s
During his last summer.
When the sun descends,
And rests just above the horizon,
I’ll sweep your brittle hair back,
And kiss your forehead.
With the orange glow
Bouncing off your eyes,
We’ll watch it disappear,
And soon be together again.
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