Ephemeral

Four brothers were in bed.
After a long afternoon mowing,
Phil soaked his muscles in the tub.

The fifth brother gazed longingly at the water,
So in he went, too,
A dirty, sweaty, pale-skinned tyke
Standing in a tub of tepid water.

After he had splashed,
After he had been soaped,
He finally sat down, as Phil wanted to get out,
Mostly sealing off the drain.

In the slowly sinking water,
He smilingly lapped the soapy water
Like a puppy,
And we his parents laughed and watched him.

This is a normal moment
Of a normal childhood,
But this moment will not come again.
Has he ever bathed with his father before?
Should it happen again,
He will probably not be babbling,
Or the weather will not be as perfect,
The smell of soap so sweet.
He won’t attempt to wipe his nose with the wet washcloth.

And I sat with tears at the happiness I was living,
And I sat with tears that this moment is already past.