special blue

the boy,
while his mother digs
in her yard,
two doors up,
comes up to you
on the sidewalk
holding his crayoned
art, he
says hello. do you want
to hang out?
sure, why not?
it's you and him
under the april blue sky,
sitting, sitting
as you once did with
your own son.
he shows you his colored
drawings.
telling you,
from one to ten
which one he likes best,
then it's your turn.
you agree with
him. you tell him
that your favorite color
is blue, and point
to it on his paper.
that's special blue
he says.
the others are light
and dark.
you agree.
the sunshine is warm.
what else
do you want to talk
about he says,
looking into your eyes,
that begin to tear.