A Short Viist to Another Time, Via Poetry

Jennie, Evan, Emmett (the dog) and me in about 1986 or so. That's grandkid Maddy and me (right).>

On a quiet, snowy morning, sitting alone in the semi-darkness as Christina sleeps, I recall a poem I wrote for my son's family at Christmas a year ago, I think it was. I don't do a lot of poetry--mostly because I don't know how and because I'm not the most sentimental guy in the world.

At the time I wrote this, though, I was thinking back to a time before so much life left so many scars. I was a young father of a lively and beautiful little girl and feeling full of all the things we feel when we have our own families.

Here's the poem.

Walk around with me
Oh mother of my child
And hoist the babe
And bounce and smile
And chase the boys
A-chasing her
And laugh and cry
And sing and purr
Till sunlight fades
And all we three
Are cuddled tight
And contented be

Lord, there's such naivete in that, but if feels good to revisit its genesis, if only for a moment.