November 14, 2011

Our eyes meet for the very first time.
November fourteenth two thousand eleven.
I looked into your eyes at three fourty-two in the afternoon. 
Your tiny fingers grasping mine.
Feeling complete for the very first time.
Nervously I feed you, your first bottle of formula.
You gulp it down, and close your eyes.
I return you to the incubater as you rest for awhile.
Life hits fast and hard, and goes away just the same.
We can remain or refrain from being the way we were.
I chose to change, for you my beautiful Jude.
The years have flown and you have grown.
I look at you now, in your three year old stage.
Adventerous, full of life and the fun that you crave.
Everything is awesome in each and every phase.
These are the days.

 

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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