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
Copyright © Blythe Journey | Year Posted 2010
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