July 4, 2014

#1633 quality screen time

from inside he front porch she spies on her boy
playing in the sandbox
his arm is a crane
the plastic shovel in his hand fills the plastic pail in his lap
his lips make what his mind decides are machine noises
he stops, turns, perhaps sensing his mother's stare
his eyes stop on hers and his mouth spreads into a crooked grin
full of happiness and short of teeth

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