©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
I like to think
he’s with us still,
a photo on the window sill,
a memory of days gone by,
a shadow in his sister’s eye.
His life, held close
to us and dear,
is stored in still shots, year by year,
engraved upon a spirit lens
as recollections, precious gems.
One layup, swishing,
banked just right;
three brothers joking late at night;
Dave Matthews on the radio;
two Michael-Cooper-style free throws.
to balls and bats
to suture kits. Imagine that!
I do imagine all these things
with a heart that smiles and sighs and sings.
I try to choose
bright colors over darker hues,
for Todd has left the clouds behind.
Why should I let them fill my mind?
I turn those pages
back in time
to moments simple and sublime,
wending my way through his joys and wins,
finding the day Todd’s life begins.
A golden day,
a golden child,
a course that ran both straight and wild,
a blessing in times tried and true.
Our hearts will hold him till we do.