Dancing Flowers

It is a late summer Sunday morning

   cool breeze

   warm sun

My youngest daughters

Play on the back patio

    in their PJs

    pink and green flash across the patio door

I join them

   sitting on the steps with a cup of coffee

“Look at this, Daddy”

    a rock

    a blade of grass

    in their hands

“Watch this, Daddy”

    as they run

    as they jump

    in the grass

They begin to dance

The sun shines into my eyes

I have to squint to see them

   but I swear

   if flowers could move

      they would dance like my daughters