Amid a buzz of crowd,
a flit of a glance
lands on the mother and child,
at repose with each other,
a growing of two out of one.

A picture,
it strikes,
as sun breaks through cloud,
making in mind
a refuge of sorts,
where,
if only for this moment,
cold and rain
hold themselves at bay.

Here we are,
beholding
a rainbow of meanings,
each
a field of flowers,
hosting seeds of hope.

Tom Keene
February 3, 2016