When you were very small
with thumb and tricot never far
from your lips,
I would brush the hair
that tangled in your lashes
with my fingertips.
You would smile with chubby-cheeked delight
throwing stubby arms
around my face
in an open-mouthed, wet
toddler-tight embrace.
I would hold your squirming
to my heard, and you would start
to pull away
your little brain already chugging
toward the next stop-plop
like a two-year-old, diapered train.
If I had only known
you'd travel faster than a baby's breath
from those days to these....
If I had known you'd glide
from child to woman like a breeze
from earth to trees...
I would have held you close
a moment longer
trying just to make it last
long as a lollipop.
I wouldn't stop
as precious seconds passed.
But you would be already off,
bouncing baby fat from my lap,
to the floor, to the door
to the day...
hurrying away...
hurrying away....
