He runs towards me with his biggest smile, his cheeks glowing with happiness. My caress waiting in my arms. As he’s getting closer, I feel the temperature’s rising. It’s no lie, the sun is moving in. I smell it in his hair, his smile, his cheeks. And that’s proving it. He is my golden boy, my eldest son.

Still he thinks of himself differently. He’s shows me the self-portrait he made. A boy with the color of mahogany looks at me. How can a classroom of fair faces darken his reflection so? Wow. A wooden mug between porcelain vases. When did ivory skin trump golden tan?

Day 3 of Writing 201: Poetry. Skin, Prose poem, Internal rhyme


11 thoughts on “Golden

  1. I really like this. I call my daughter the sunshine in my life. My son is my grounding, the one who I can depend on. Great job!

    1. Yes, I saw some other writing101 buddies from the April course too. Nice too see a familiar avatar… I’ll try and comment on each poem you write!

  2. I loved this poem. It was so special, and warm and you really conveyed the task for this day. Well done.

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