This poem, placed in the box this morning, celebrates the small glories to be found in holding a grandson.
For Now
You've tied my murmurs,
Smiling face, my scent,
My arm beneath your back--
A firm support, a light embrace--
Together into what is was
That made you grin just then
Into my widening eyes as though
We'd shared some joke
Or treasured memory,
Just ours,
From some earlier time,
As though there was one.
Now there is and it is mine
To hold for you for now.
No comments:
Post a Comment