Portrait: Owen (on his Birthday)

Here is a blur of a child with a solemn, blurry face. Here is a child who streaks past faster than a photograph. There is a piece of Lego in each hand; there are trucks that go 'brrrrm' and hammers are always for banging.

There is Texta all over the tabletop now that I scrub off as best I can at night. There are scribbled drawings and green fat cheeks and fingers the colour of Vegemite. There is a bite out of each of the apples in the fruit bowl, and bananas snuck out to keep the bananas in his fruit book company.

Here is an unfurling seed pod of a child. Here are rare sticky kisses. Long walks down the hall on tiptoe and back again, sultanas snuck out of the second drawer down, and always Bunny dragging along behind him. At the playground I lose him in the tunnel, my heart in my throat until I see a tiny shoe. How does time seize and yet go by so quickly?