Sunday, December 1, 2013

Sunday Memories: The Buddhas

Mother and Son
The first time I laid eyes on her, it was like watching firecrackers laughing hysterically you just had to join in we never could stop snap crackling and popping at bus stops, in class, the girls's bathroom, once on a beach in Hawaii, but mostly on streets in her, my, our New York...
The last time I held him, really held him, my heart couldn't stop breaking he fit into the crook of my arm, three-months old, a tiny little meow in the middle of the night to let us know he was hungry, we adored him so much this Baby Buddha, we nicknamed him Boyfriend because he was all love, even then.