December 08

Laura

I think it was the year
you swept up jacarandas
from the path
and sculpted them

a purple dolphin

I think it was the year
you planted herbs
and greedily
we ate them all at once
cut them down so deep
they couldn’t grow

The year
you raced your scooter
down the drive
our faithful dog
ears flapping
close behind

I think it was the year
you sang in every room
and filled the house
with questions
but did not wait
for answers

I think that was the best year
of them all.

“Beauty is my child’s face.”*

Is there a more perfect sight than the face of a beloved child? Is there a more perfect feeling than stroking the softness of their skin? Is there a more perfect smell than inhaling their sweet scent as you envelope them in a tight embrace? These are some of the intoxicating wonders of motherhood. How I love to dwell on my child’s exquisite features, but no matter how long or how intently I gaze, the image is always changing. It is the nature of childhood.

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