I hold him tightly while I rock him.
I exhale slowly and release
all of the tension in me,
all of the love in me;
it filters through him.

I hold him and he tucks into me,
into the place from which he grew.

He will call me one Thanksgiving
and tell me that he is going to
her house instead.
I will force myself
to be happy for him.
I will force myself
to say,
“Wonderful, Dear. Have a happy Thanksgiving.”

I will hang up the phone.Remove featured image
I will rock myself.
I will tuck my knees tightly
into his spot.

I will remember how I exhaled
all of my love
into him
so that
he could love her.

1 Comment
  • Laxmi

    This is so beautiful.. As are all your poems. You have a gift for putting into words the little heartbreaks and many joys we experience as moms watching our babies grow. Happy Mothers Day..

    May 10, 2014 at 2:28 am

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