I don’t usually write poetry–in fact, I’ve told my students many times that they write far better poems than I can! But for some reason, in this season of quarantine, free verse poems have been bubbling up in my heart like never before. So this week, in honor of my sweet little boy’s first birthday which recently passed, I thought I’d share one with you.
by Kiersti Giron
A few days ago, I picked up a small, discarded nightie from the arm of the worn rocking chair in the living room.
And suddenly, unexpectedly, found my heart deeply moved.
That I, even I, had a baby nightie to pick up and put away…
the nightie of my own little son.
And I looked about our crammed living room with fresh eyes,
eyes of gratitude, blurred with thankfulness.
For the changing pad sitting atop the black side table…
For the basket of diapers underneath,
blue-checkered Pooh diaper bag beside…
For the cradle filled with too many toys beneath the window…
For the child, slumbering on our bed, spread-eagled on his tummy with bottom sticking up in the air.
For the startling blondness of his wispy hair, a few months ago so sparse, now growing long over his ears.
For the curve of his eyes and his rosebud mouth,
now falling open in the seriousness of sleep.
For the dimpled warmth of his small hands, so busy when he’s awake, peaceful and open now.
For his precious feet, still so small, yet compared to one year ago…
For the exuberant, life-full, energetic, determined,
loving, squealing, life-upturning reality
of this little boy who has so wondrously invaded our lives.
And I knelt on the sheepskin rug by his play gym a moment,
for the gift we were given, so freely, with so much love,
no matter to what we might deserve.
The gift of our little son, Aeron.