Tag Archives: child

Mirrors

Your hands are your father’s

Only smaller, smoother like

The glassy sunsets of uncommon

Jewels. You raise life to your mouth

For inspection, you drink it in like wine.

I imagine your world in the prisms of

A periscope; you are seeing things I am much

Too jaded to see. The first hint of light that works

To wake me is your hundredth sunrise. Each

Morning you open your eyes and dream.

***

Our beautiful baby boy certainly keeps me busy and unable to post here as often as I’d like to, but thank you to those who continue to stop by and read my words. I truly appreciate it!

xo

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The Philosopher

He wakes and his Cupid’s mouth

Is thrumming at my breast.

 

I lift him high with tired arms

And he thinks I shaped the sky

 

With these two hands. In simple

Motions I am a life source, in

 

Quiet rooms by lamplight I teach

Him what words are. I used to think

 

I had not done enough, was not full

Enough of something until my own son

 

Searched my face like starlight. In twelve

Hours I became a philosopher in a hospital gown.

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