The Enomity of Meaning in Little Things

Summer Buttercup
Summer Buttercup

Bright mid-summer morning

I walked, she skipped, holding hands.

She giggled at all she saw-full of life/joy

at everything.

A small grouping of dew-covered Buttercups,

She jumped up and down with glee.

A long ago memory caught my heart for her.

With absent pleasure, placing it under her chin,

“Do you like butter?’

“Now you do it.” I said.

She saw the yellow glow,

With eyes wide with wonder-yes!

“You do too, Grandpa!’

With tears, the memory, so sweet as to be unbearable,

flooded my soul with the loss.

“Look Dad, Mommy showed me! Do you like butter?”

3 thoughts on “The Enomity of Meaning in Little Things

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