I should get out of bed,
make tidy checks on my to-do list,
but my little guy found me here.
We’re huddled under the sheet
hiding from the seeking dog.
His days slide away from me, one
Immutable design erases knee dimples,
flattens cheeks, asserts:
Do it self.
Independence in increments.
Already people exist
who recognize him and not me.
I see where this is going.
Tomorrow he will be
a deep voice on the other end
of the phone once a week.
So we squeal when Daisy noses under our cover
and hide again from whatever comes.
4 replies on “Quiet, Mama”
Saw this shared on Facebook. It’s just PERFECT! Thank you for creating such a beautiful poem.
How lovely – you brought back those wonderful moments that I spent with my now 16-year-old, snuggling in my big bed on Saturday mornings. I do miss those days – cherish them while they last!
So lovely and real! Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem!