morning frost covers the deck like snow
treacherous to my slippers
as I evacuate a squirrel from the birdfeeder

my two-year-old watches through the sliding door
incredulous
perhaps the only time
he does not follow me out

even as the freeway drones in the distance
there is a wildness
cold, solitude, uncommon, still
that overrides both task and comfort

the little boy just seems to know
without seeking or being caught
it's there

(Search Categories: Poems Poetry Parenting)