Friday, June 17, 2016

Thoughts of My Child



My Child


There are times I look at my child,
And think of the pain of a lonely pregnancy;
how unsure I was of myself,
how scared and alone I felt.
I see my little boy,

wishing he had a father,
to help him fix a toy truck;
to teach him to hit a ball,
to make him be good.
And I wonder did I do wrong?
have I hurt my child?

I remember feeling resentful,
for bringing him up alone;
for being tied down,
then feeling guilty,
for feeling this way.
Then I look at my son
looking at me full of trust,
smiling, saying he's happy;
that I did no wrong,
that I haven't hurt him.

I look at my son,
and he clutches my hand,
and he tells me his secrets;
I hold him - and I know he'll be fine,
and so will I.


- For we have each other.

This is a poem I wrote long ago, when my son was very little. Still a baby, in fact. Now he is 46 years old, all grown up. Time passes quickly. I am not posting this for his birthday or any special day. Just that I recently spent some time with him and realized that everything turned out okay after all.










Copyright © 2016 Kathleen G. Lupole
All Photographs Copyright © 2016 Kathleen G. Lupole