{Poetry}: Day 31: Another Moment

Lightning Strikes Twice

I remember the first time I saw you
my heart beat like a fist pounding
against my breastbone.
I feared you wouldn’t love me,
I feared you wouldn’t trust me.
(You were swaddled in her arms,
and she was your protector.)

The moments in the hospital room
with you nuzzled into my chest
were sacred,
but here you were,
bald, fat, beautiful.

I had created something lovely.
Something that I couldn’t crumple
or throw in the trash can.
(Something so lovely,
you were never a mistake
like a badly written poem
or an unforgiving chapter one.)

Your eyes were gray brown,
they assured me they’d darken with time,
but I hoped they wouldn’t darken
with sadness or hurt.
(I wanted to protect you from the hurricanes
that had destroyed my faith in humanity.
I wanted to shelter you from the fears
that made me shudder when I tried to sleep.)

It was a moment frozen when I walked into
your life once more.
It had scarcely been a month,
but you astounded me.

You were a gift to all,
but a surprise to me.

I half-expected you to inherit
his monstrous smirk,
his swirly eyes,
his intimidating nature.

(Instead you cooed and laughed
and smiled like new babies do.
You smelled as sweet as baby powder,
and my own tears surprised me.)

I never thought I could create something
I never thought I could create something

(But sometimes,
lightning does strike twice.)



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s