I found this gem cleaning off my desk tonight

He was 9 months old then…
Matthew
I would rather have no time for poetry
if it’s because
I’m your mother
Loving you in my arms
smiling
struggling to grow
Engrossed in a pile
of toys
needing to be waited on…tended to
guided…taught…disciplined…shaped
enjoyed…kissed…hugged…and fed
Then, later, when you sleep
or in a cafe at 11am while you watch
people
talk to lights
drop keys and wonder
where the rice puffs are
I will write a poem for you