Forever blasted, in effort
To shelter me from the
Presence of your absence
My heart weighs heavy
My lungs challenge maximum capacity
Relentless negotiation with time for more
Nostalgic concerning each day’s unique imprint
Because today my son, you are 8
But tomorrow, you will be 8 and another day
Each story quickens my memory
While every developmental milestone exhumes
Our journey into endless infinity
My goodness you were right
She did come, the lady with stuff
To make everything … better
