Today’s prompt is to write a poem inspired by an entry from the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.

While watching this video on the site:

. . . I was hit by how much I miss having small children in my life. My own five children range in age from 31 to 42. I have no grandchildren. My second teaching career, teaching elementary general music to grades kindergarten through sixth grade, helped fill that void, but I retired seven years ago. I know there are lots of ways I could voluntarily have children in my life again, but it’s just not possible right now.

Kidlessness

my arms ache to cradle a dozing infant
my eyes wish to marvel at the perfection of a tiny fingernail
my fingers itch to caress the fuzzy cap of hair soft and smooth as mink
my ears long to hear hearty peals of childish laughter
to share the joy of a surprise peekaboo
my lips desire to kiss the booboos and make them all better
to whisper the words that will heal bruised feelings

when I hear a mother claim she’s bored at home with the kids all day
I want to shout
you don’t know how blessed you are
don’t waste a single moment you have together
how precious they are
how coveted

to see the world anew from the perspective of a child
to wonder at a pebble or a leaf or a feather
to see the spark of understanding take hold and grow
to witness increasing competence every day
to share life with the one I love more than myself
there’s nothing better

©ARHuelsenbeck 2021