Children forget so much.
He won't remember our days together,
just the two of us.
And who will
    as the days pass,
and my own memories fade?

Those times, those precious perfections of little moments. 
Stolen away. 

"No, son, we'll eat lunch,
have ice-cream."

I think of them now, as many as I can. 
How many of you have
already slipped away? 

But the days pass and there will be new moments,

to forget.

So I treasure each one;
and holding it close, I breathe it in,
like a dyeing breath...

And think of a distant time
long from now,
and an old man lying still.

When his last breath leaves,
and those beautiful, dark eyes
close their last,
will his thoughts return to me?

and remember

a man and a little boy
    walking hand-in-hand
        on that sidewalk so long ago?
Will he remember their joy?

Frozen forever in time,
    and lost for all eternity.

My teacher, my friend

Little demon

From heaven

Child of my heart

Source of life yet painful reminder

of my weakness

to see the truth

that I am little more than child


so I learn from your every
act, so

we grow up together

my son

READY, SET,...                                                                       20 X 28   Acrylic

This painting is a physical and spiritual portrait of the artist's son,
Tristan, and symbolizes the spirit of childhood.