With My Son Under the Sun

A bushy tail on a hare scurried by
My son longed to chase it,
But was tired and sighed instead.

He settled for a scary tale.
Lay his head down under the sun,
Letting all his hair fall to one side.

My son loved to be under the sun,
He sat at my side, and I played with his hair.
We sighed happily after a tale about how the hare lost its tail.