Freckles sprinkle the top of my son’s nose– distinct
like the rings of a tree, telling how many summers
he’s spent under the sun and in the dirt with digging
hands and dusty toes.
Sapling only has several modest specks, but
one day I’ll look up and he’ll be grown tall with
summers of freckles smeared across his cheeks,
up on his shoulders and down his lanky limbs.
Today, though, I’ll nuzzle his little nose with mine,
inviting our freckles to greet.
Ashley Knowlton teaches English, and she writes poetry for enjoyment. Her work has been published in Pomona Valley Review, DASH, Abandoned Mine, and Cobra Lily, with work to be published in upcoming issues of Neologism Poetry Journal, Trajectory, Evening Street Review, and The Waiting Room. She lives in northern California with her husband, sons, and their many animals.