In the grass,
The lushness of your face half-concealed,
A world's worth of joy,
Compacted into two irises,
Of blended blues and greys,
And hands,
Lightly calloused and sunburnt,
The child come from us,
Standing three feet,
Fascinated by the sounds emanating from the bush,
And my watch wound down,
Frozen here,
In my dreams I continue unbounded.
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