Day 462

A father tosses his child in the air.
He hasn’t seen him for weeks
but now they are together,
and the baby — maybe six
months old? — is chubby, healthy.
The father tosses him.
The baby giggles, smiles
at his father, and the father
laughs.  Up, up in the air!
That’s where death
comes from — the drones,
the warplanes —
But look, Death!  Here
is my strong young son!
You cannot have him,
Death!  You cannot take him
from me!  I will taunt you,
Death, with his bright
eyes, his vibrant skin!
Up, up I will toss him
but I will catch him each time
again in my arms. 
He is not yours.