Wednesday, January 25, 2012

poem, for Z., 1/25/12

If this is the last day that I live to
hold you so close and watch your tender sleep,
then so be it. I have known the greatest
love and joy this afternoon of my life.
You are a Rubens painting of angel
in fullest glory: from ten startling toes
to face so lovely I cannot catch my breath.

I, no Rubens woman, do not spill a
decolletage: I grow only bony and thin
and intensely withered and old.

But now I know what heaven would be,
and I thank the Lord who sent this day and
you to me. If I made you feel safe for
one moment while you slept and ate and played,
then I understand why I lived to see today.


Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Nursery Rhyme #11, for My Zachy, entitled Old Soul

Only someone who has been here before can
Learn so easily the
Daily things you do; the words you say.

Someone who is not yet two
Only can remember and
Understand just from the
Last time your soul came around.