Nancy Huntley Yates
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Handprint Of Clay
Old dusty boxes stacked in the attic
Cobwebs on the rafters
Me reminiscing through
old papers and photos;
A different time long ago.
Beneath a folder of Kindergarden smiles
and crocked alphabet letters;
wrapped in thin cloth,
still dressed with red ribbon;
Your beautiful handprint of clay.
I remember the seasons
I remember the moments
Your toothless grin and small steps
Your weight in my arms,
your breath on my cheek, as I ran to catch the city bus.
The tree you climbed on Saturday
with frayed rope and tire below