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Parental, a poem

by on March 17, 2012


Giggling as we topsey-turve a day away

beneath the sun.

To toss a ball and chase it down;

their toddling legs can scarcely pace

but still I slow, and bested, am

nearly doubling over with childish merriment.

Who can tell me this isn’t what life’s about?





Drubbing lips with fingertips to make that

silly sound again.

Peek-a-boo and messy meals; a hallway

walk with cereal crunch

beneath my tired, heavy steps.

A cough, a sneeze and dribble on

the tie I thought I’d wear today.

But matters not against the score of life’s memories.





With grease-ed speed, early’s now late

and second guessing time’s now passed

into their growing lives as molded new ones they’ve become.

‘Oh, God’,  I hope I  laid the bricks all straight:

from one to seventeen a-row with heads

who feel they now know best.

I’d not trade this for all treasures of the earth.

          Written June 1998 / © 2012 pablo de fleurs 


From → Poetry

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