My baby sits
on the kitchen floor,
waving backwards
while I put on my coat,
tears welling in her eyes,
rolling down her cheeks
silently. We have a new
sitter and my baby girl
needs weeks with a person,
sometimes years
to feel close, to feel
cared for, cuddled, safe.
* * * * *
This is only the beginning.
She’s not even one
but she knows
this is not
what she wants.
My heart breaks
in two,
in five,
in twelve
I need
to be strong,
offer love and
smiles and
reassurance and
I am and
I do, but
my heart breaks, too.
* * * * *
So when I pull out my
phone ten years later
and text our favorite sitter
to see if she’s home
for the summer,
it is light in the sky
and birds in my heart
I hear
when she says:
YES.
* * * * *
National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days