Thursday 23 April 2020

Validation

My son, who isn't even two,
Points at paintings
That hang on the walls
Of our home
Of women dancing,
And playing the flute,
And says, "Mama!". 
It makes me smile to know
He sees a congruence
In face, stance and mood;
And then I wonder
Why I can't always seat myself
Upon that same golden throne
That he has saved for me
In his mind palace. 


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