Father's Flannel

Though monochrome, the photo colors bright
the unadulterated joy of my small dimple,
pressed to his, in warm delight.

His strong plaid flanneled arms encircle me
with love so rich, deep, yet ever light,
give me sure knowledge of eternity.

Shirts, night gowns, pajamas, all flannel, they
hold magic that by fleece cannot be worn,
nor can the quick, passing years wear away.

Three decades from the camera’s eye, so too,
my toddler’s take-along becomes for me,
no dust cloth, but a flannel memory.

[First published in the journal Kudzu, 2008.]