Little Boy

Little boy,
you seem so small
curled up here,
head on pillow
as I rub your back;
so small,
like you were once
upon a time,
when this was our routine
our nights and nap times .
Back then,
you smelled all baby-sweet
the picture of innocence,
without a care in the world,
your long lashes brushing
your full cheeks,
your little red lips
puckered.
Now you spend your days
out
free
talking and learning and
growing and changing,
you are responsible
for your actions,
not me,
sometimes you fall
you make your mistakes,
you move about
independent
from my day.
But at night,
curled up here,
my hand on your back,
you seem small again
after all,
vulnerable,
yielding,
you rest your head
and let me coax you,
like old times,
into sleep.

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10 thoughts on “Little Boy

  1. My son is now forty four and is six foot two. I still remember him when he was a wrinkle in his crib with no teeth and a smile on his face from his pooping activity. Those were the days.

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