She saw him stretch;
long and lean -
the timothy bowing to his form.
A plane rattled the window,
sliced the lone cloud -
one shape bending the next.
Silent he shifted visions.
Somehow, before awe
turned intrusion, she left him
to his day.
* The poem above was inspired by a poem written by Jane Kenyon and dedicated to my son.
She was an inspiration; he continues to be much the same.
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