The Child

I expertly recall the moment when
time erupted forth
a son; he stood with unbalanced feet,
impressively short attention span, and
a clear but witty disposition.
His smile, awkward with a slight smirk,
suggested thoughts with potential
but his stance suggested otherwise.
Short, a bit corpulent…his presence was
obvious yet forgettable to most.
He gnawed on his fingertips, chiseled,
chiseled, chiseled until they were raw.
Feet tapping, the sunlight from spring
beamed on him illuminating his soft features.
After what felt like hours of mindless gawking and
scrutinizing of this poor overlooked child,
he winked at me.