January 7, 2007

• 
  photo credit ©drc 2007

  BOAT
  
  “Boat, mommy!” he said, pointing
  as it bobbed around the tub
  He emptied it, sank it again,
  and, laughing, said, “Blub-blub!”
  
  “Can we go to the ship, mommy?”
  my young son said to me,
  “Take me to the park,
  to play a pirate lost at sea!”
  
  “Hey, mom, I’m taking out the boat”
  my son told me one day
  “I’ll catch a lot of fish
  and fry us each a great filet!”
  
  “Drive me to the dock?” he asked.
  He’d grown up all too soon
  “I got my orders – overseas.
  It’s not like it’s the moon!”
  
  I took my son’s face in my hands,
  he looked me in the eye
  then choking back my tears of pride
  I straightened up his tie.
  
     A mother’s love, I’ve realized,
     is melancholy-lined:
     I’ll always hear the echoes of
     “Boat, mommy!” in my mind.
  
  © drc 2007
  (really glad my son is still just 2-1/2 years old!!)
     

  • 11:16 pm
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