Jul 16

Red Warrior

He lays in my lap,
His red curls
Matted.
A faded memory of sleep.
His eyes flicker open
And closed,
His slip-on shoes dangling from
His feet as he swings them
To a familiar tune.
My hands card through his hair; 
A silent oath of my love,
I can feel his untouched energy– even in
his early morning haze– 
Radiating off of him and
Into every direction.
A warrior,
Beautiful in his strong stance.