Rolling the Rug

He was 4 when we rolled out the new rug,

the moving boxes cut and connected into a 

huge cardboard fort with many windows,

Greta looking on.

He is 14 as we roll it back up to move else-

where after a decade of growth, snickering at 

childish things found in the back of his closet,

Greta long gone.

He is ageless in my heart, whether small with

bright orange hair, or nearly adult-sized with 

his own ideas, direction, dreams, and desires.

***