I took my Practical Writing class to a workshop given by author Sonya Sones. She had us write poetry using questions, similes, and with the theme of “firsts”. This is what I wrote obediently while my students wrote obediently. I had the distinct feeling for the rest of the day that I had held a baby. It was sweet.
April Child
Who is this?
Who will he be?
Is the name we chose
strong enough
blue enough
handsome enough
for him?
His tiny hands reach up and out
Away from me for the first time.
His thoughts are like the sweet crocus
That lies buried in the yard in winter
And blooms with the late snow.
His dreams are like the bright tulips
That hide in the garden
Until the first spring rain.
His words are like the fragrant hyacinth
That pushes up from under
Surprising us with fragrance and beauty.
What will he think?
What will he dream?
What will he say?
It is my first baby so I don’t know.
