the burden of love

when my son tired
walking around the lake,

I picked him up,
let him ride

on my back for a mile
or two, then set

him down.
we'd rest on a bench facing

the sun,
skipping rocks,

searching for turtles
or frogs just to say

we saw one.
he's too large to carry now,

living on another coast,
but I do hold him

in my heart at night,
the burden of love

is never set down.