He’s all dressed but his shoes.
He even pulled on his own socks.
It makes no difference
That they’re inside out
And that the heel of the sock
Is on the top of his foot
Because he did it all himself.
Patiently he sits,
Waiting for his mother to
Finish the dishes and tie his shoes.
Swinging his little legs back and forth
And trying to learn how to whistle
Help him pass the time.
But the sky is blue, and
There is a gentle breeze
Coming through the screen door
Which beckons him to come out to play.
“How long is a minute?” he asks.
His mother tells him to watch
The clock on the wall to see
The tiny second hand go in a circle.
He wanted to be sure to see, so
He climbed upon a chair and
Traced the movement with his finger.