Spring

Ta gum, mama and he hands me a flower.  Here you go mama is what he means.  He points to his head.  Put it in ur hair, mama , his eyes say. I put it in my hair. He grins his too wide grin and runs down the stairs for more.
Later I am chasing him down the sidewalk, as he goes in pursuit of the trucks fixing the tennis courts at the park on the corner. The flowers tumble onto the side, marking the path back home.