Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Caught Looking

You ask me why I’m staring.
What am I to say?
That I was searching the squareness of your jaw
For the softness of my baby’s face?
That at times your silhouette startles me
And cuts my breathing into ribbons?
That in my dreams I still hold you
And smell the newness of your downy head?
That your shoulders seem impossible to me?
That when you stride your long limbs across the room
I long for your wobbly, chubby legs?
Should I even try to tell you
That for a mother
There is no embracing without pulling
No rejoicing without grieving?
That to look at you now is to know
That your birth was the beginning
Of your leaving?


  1. " . . . that the birth was the beginning of your leaving." How true is that?! Had I known this or thought of this in this way when I was a frustrated stay at home mum, I might not have wished so much of their lives away.

  2. My baby is still a baby but I already know the truth in this.