childhood

there is a sweet
long dream of
time when children
are young, from
birth, before real
school and life
begins, perhaps
until they are ten
or nine, i'm not
sure. but to tuck
them in everynight,
to be home with them,
to hear their prayers,
to bring them water,
or read to them
to answer every question
that rolls through
their little minds,
is gold. is beyond
gold. those are
memories that are
never diminished
by time, by age,
by the long road
of life. he knows now
as he knew then
that i am here,
i am down the hall,
in the other room.
there is nothing on
this earth i would
trade those moments
for and neither
would he.