Sunday, 23 June 2013

knee hug

loudly, softly, loudly  
the sounds of children playing, waft round me 
like notes of music tinkling in misty coruscant glitters,

and cast my mind back to long ago moments – 
far from my geriatric park bench perch.

I feel younger – much, much younger –  
in the wisps of honey voices 
and odd, capricious breezy fountain spray.    

the backyard on Old Colony Road comes to me.

you are running, there, with Bilbo  
in sparkle beams, in sprinkler spindrift.

you’re laughing – buoyant with joy –  
happy as only a little child can be.

I remember, that day – in bursts of giggles –   

you said:  look at me, Mommy:  I’m swallowing the wind.

and then, you ran to me – arms open wide –  
and hugged my knees. 

Photo:  At the Water Park (with Matthew) – W. Bourke 

© 2013 Wendy Bourke


  1. A tender, joyful poem. Nice details, Wendy, such as "wisps of honey voices." I love "I'm swallowing the wind" and your ending.

  2. Thanks, Janet. It was, for me, a lovely memory.