MOTHERING INSTINCT(for Lyn)
Tears...tears well but don't fall.
Bottom lip
trembles.
Top lip
quivers
& just before she can begin
to howl...
...I howl!
I open my mouth
& - bawl!
Stunned
she stares at my open mouth
with nothing but
sobs coming out.
'I'm...cryin'...'cos...you were..
...gonna...cry! '
I manage to blurt out
(trying not to laugh behind my crocodile tears) .
She climbs up on my lap
(a sturdy little foot on each patella)
wipes my fake tears
away with her hair.
'Ah...Dónall Dónal...not cry! '
'Big boy not cry! Sillly...Dónall cry! '
'Shhhhhhhh! '
she sushes me
kissing a me
(guilty)
of unleashing my four year old's
mothering instinct.l
poem by Dónall Dempsey
Added by Poetry Lover
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