A child sets out to please,
picks a yellow, long-stemmed flower
for a bouquet he imagines for his mom.
He’s proud to show the first one,
and encouraged by her smile,
he runs off to find as many as he can.
Each time that he comes back,
the smile’s just a little less,
but he keeps returning with a little more.
A mile run in all, almost tired,
one more flower in his hand,
he returns to find the others on her lap.
She smiles once again
this time happier than before,
admiring his sweetness and resolve.
She reaches out to lift him,
to kiss his cheeks and hair,
and the flowers fall so softly. . .
as she holds the best bouquet.