Seeing Griffy Run - Poem by Max Reif
Seeing Griffy run to mom
or heel-toe, to my banjo tune,
his splaying dance of toddler-hood,
a total pleasure on his face,
brings back all joy I've ever known.
His every move is still his own,
created from the music
or a distance to be covered.
He'll find the world's
rhythms soon enough.
New York ballerinas
might feel envy,
if they cannot share the joy
of seeing Griffy run and dance.
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