Baby Face

holding tightly for as long as possible

Your clothes I fold are not so tiny

I hear a thump, down the hall to your room

I kneel down to pick you up 

Shocked at how heavy you are

When was the last time I carried you?

Alarm and grief hit me like a tidal wave 

My darling girl, my first born 

Who practically lived in my arms 

your first year of life

Is now 6 going on 7

You are more than half my height

and apparently weigh as much as a kettlebell

Your face is taking shape, baby face begone —

A blooming reader, arithmetician and genuinely kind person

You graduated to 2nd grade

On the last day of school, I cried

You read to me now

You’re a talented artist

You have a big heart.

I put you back in bed
You’re fast asleep
and there it is, that face, that baby 
I linger on — staring at that face
Burning it in my memory 
Like a chisel to wood

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Linger."