Spinning,
twirling,
I draw out
my terrycloth
crusaders cape,
capture him,
small and warm
into my arms.
Trapped by
my body,
I bend low,
press my lips
to his nape.
Whisper
“I love you”
and hope
he can hear
it echo in his skin.
This poem was written for my son Rowan December 8th 2005, and was published in a local Houston Poetry Mag called “The Panhandler” (http://www.thepanhandler.org/) around 6 months later. For some reason, I never did get around to putting it up on my blog till today.
base2wave said,
April 2, 2007 at 8:05 pm
I dig. Aside from just not being able to write in general anymore, I don’t think I’ve ever quite accomplished even cobbling together anything about the Goblin. Well done you.