Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Another Poem


It’s my pillow, but I don’t mind.
His drool will dry in no time.
He is my son, my little boy.
The one I thought might die.
He is so peaceful, in my bed;
his blanket tucked around his head.
His knees are up; his left toes curled.
He means more to me than all the Jeffreys in the world.
Though it is dark, in my mind’s eye
I see that scar that saved his life.
I know how lucky we have been.
No therapy or hospital stays for him.
I count the years that I have had
with Jeffrey by his twin brother’s side.
A Daniel without Jeffrey would not be whole.
I know this deep within my soul.
I love my boy, my miracle.
I thank God he is with me still.
I pick him up, his blanket, too.
He rests his head on me and sighs.
I carry him off to bed.
He is mine.

April 23, 2002


D. U. Okonkwo said...

Very touchng, RaShelle.

Author Joshua Hoyt said...

This is very sweet and heartfelt. It reminded me of my own kids.