Papa And His Son

small son
like a toy soccer ball
yellow and black spots
in the warm hold of
Papa the giant
to his mind
his hands are powerful
against the walls
and tall buildings
against the hot horizon
he laughs
at son who raises his hands
in total surrender
not afraid anymore
if ever he falls
Papa is the giant
his words are true
like walls and tall buildings
like strong hands
like laughter
like white teeth
like words of comfort
of horizon's assurance.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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