Grandchild’s Laughter
A poem
Published in
6 hours ago
It bubbles up like a mountain spring,
pure and unexpected,
filling the room with its melody.
I want to bottle this sound,
uncork it on gloomy days,
let it spill over me like sunshine.
Her tiny hands reach for my face,
and I am young again.
We dance in the kitchen,
her feet on mine, twirling
to a tune only we can hear,
time suspended in joy.
In her eyes, I see the future,
bright and full of wonder.
In her laughter, I hear echoes
of all the love that came before.
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