(Photo: 'Generations' by photographer Steven L. Miller. slmblackandwhitephotography.com/)
Your hands will grow.
Calluses will cake your steady palms
and gain character with every touch.
Your nose will grow,
Broad and strong and pointed straight into the future.
Your pudgy cheeks will stretch with time
And sprout prickly hairs that will tickle
Your children’s faces, and they will laugh.
Your small frame will grow wide and full,
Sturdy yet unassuming in silent masculinity.
Yes, you will grow, my boy,
Into the life of a man who now walks
Just over the horizon.
But your eyes, those eyes that even now
Know my soul and look on
In unabashed wonder,
Your eyes will never change.
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