Monday, November 9, 2009
at this moment...
Time is a fleet-footed young girl. She scampers away on tip-toe; tiny nails painted shell pink. She's so quick all you see is a flash of her scarlet skirt. Sparkle. There she goes again. Drifting away. Leaving behind only fading memories. Memories that feel more like dreams. Memories of magic. Of smiles. Of breathless laughter. Of butterfly kisses and, "Do it again, Daddy. Do it again."
I keep turning corners just two steps behind her. Trying desperately to catch a hold of her skirt. To stall her just for a moment. To keep just a little of this fleeting beauty. Be still, I whisper. Be still.
But she doesn't. She won't. She can't.
How I wish that she would.
Image by Jamie M.
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