For Caleb

 He hands me a book

Will you read this to me, Papa?

I settle on the couch

And he curls up beside me

Blond hair resting against my arm

Blue eyes looking up

In anticipation

So, I read quietly to my grandson

A simple child’s story

But for this soon-to-be five-year-old

This is the world

A book

The couch

Papa

Reading

Would that moments like this

Stretched out and out

For the joy of simple things