In the country air barren fields and barbwire
I can hear the sound of emergence,
the slow ascent of Spring and childhood.
Through the pine and willow we catch a glimpse of a red-shouldered hawk
And I teach you about it.
View from a distance, watch you learn to balance
above the rock wall and gravel,
silhouetted- sun rays compete to shine on your accomplishment
raise both hands in excitement, triumphant,
aware of the growth in you, blossoming.
Pulled out the ladder and toolbox, you carried yours proudly,
we hung the birdhouse you painted for me on the tree along the corn field.
What joy in your eyes when you handed me your gift.
And in mine when I see you.
