generations hug

little red-headed boy fighting tears

hobbling grandmother comforts

“Do you know what I like most?”

“Uh-uh,” he sniffles

“Freckles. Isn’t that what they

were teasing you about?”

slow smile in response

“Do you know what I like most?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“Wrinkles.”

stranger in the room

stranger in the room

admired the more he speaks

for the idealism he’s incorporated into his life’s work

and warm reaction to teasing and laughter

it’s reassuring to respond, even wistfully, after years of widowhood

i suppose i am still alive after all