Their Own Little People

Watching them fuss  Amuses me As she colors  As he reads Listening to his words Aloud he says "pathologist" And my mind can't wrap Itself around this nine year old Boy saying these words  And this little girl beside him Coloring her own picture  Of life and her world  Not my world anymore No diapers no bottles No rice cereal sticking to My feet in the kitchen  Because I spilled it on a Sleepy morning when the Night before I held them  Rocked them to sleep through Teething and fevers and coughs And I grab at these days that Slip through my fingers Like sand or water As I watch them be their Own little people Fussing about absolutely nothing Just to fuss and proclaim That they are  Their own little people  And I loosen my grip  Tears burning my eyes As they grow  When I look into their eyes My mind travels to that day That day we looked at Each other for the first time And I thought of diapers  And bottles and clipping Oh so tiny fingernails  And no matter their height My mind can't let go And won't ever forget  The nights they slept  Upon my chest  And I knew one day  They couldn't That they would be  Their own little people  Reading books and coloring pictures  And growing faster  than I could let go And fussing as they  Declare they are who  They are Their own little people