No Photos

Siitting in the cool

wet sand,
Feeling the grainy,

earthy texture

Against my hands.

The water lapping

lazily at my toes,

The sun picking up

the gold in his hair,

my son.

Laughing as the surf
erodes the fruits

Of our afternoon's work.
Wading in the calm bay,

Looking back at the shore
Trying to freeze the frame.

Burn this image into my brain,
Carve it into my center

My heart wants to know it
forever.

No cameras, No Phones,
No photos.

Just me, just him,

The summer son

and I continue our

lovely swim.