Tomorrow is my first-born’s 21st birthday!


Many years ago now, I wrote a poem about my son, although the sentiments could be shared equally with my other children.



I look at you and wonder who you are sometimes.

You’ve grown so fast and I don’t yet feel old,

But here you are on the threshold:

One foot firmly planted in childhood,

The other tentatively poised in the land of adolescence.


I look at you and sometimes see a stranger,

A face familiar but not quite the way it used to be.

Your displays of maturity catch me unaware,

Leave me gaping like a fool.

When did you become so old and wise?


I look at you when you’re not looking back,

And I see glimpses of the child that you were,

Your face, hazel eyes, and thin-lipped smile.

I take your hand and my heart soars

For every second that you do not pull away.


I look at you in photos placed within a scrapbook,

And I fall in love with my baby once again.

I look at the boy you are now and count

The years until you find your feet beneath you,

Spread your wings and soar towards your dreams.

samgrad1 sampitch



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