On the daybed mattress
I sat apart imagining rose
cheeks with toys put in boxes
back in the sun on his shelf.
His last Christmas gifts
the wii zapper toy Indian
and happy face flashlight
reflecting in the surface shine
on his electronic red corvette
piggy bank.
He charged sprang and plunked
with crystal bright eyes and
a bursting playground smile
and loved to hold sparklers every
Fourth of July.
The room's quiet rings
around me as blind wind
chimes bring me back
to the wood stained
floor - the wind took him
away again.
.
