Who was I talking to?
Like all parents, I hated seeing my child’s feelings hurt, especially during those toddler years when they could be so surprised by disappointment. One night I wrote this to him and his baby brother, Nate. Now, having lost Alex 21 years later, I have to wonder if I was writing it to myself.
To Alex, three,
and Nate, one.
Before you
start you life,
be warned.
Balloons burst.
Toys break.
Blocks fall.
Balls deflate.
Doggies bite,
clowns cry,
leaves turn brown,
flowers die.
Sandcastles
never stay,
kites break free
and fly away.
But every kite
that comes untied
gives up the space
it occupied
for another
just as light
just as bouncy,
just as bright
