Knees bent, knuckles white
Atop his pirate ship
A Christmas gift from years ago, it has found new life
As our Rocket Boy's primary transport.
Get me! Get me! He cries
And dutifully we chase him from kitchen to dining room to living room to front door
Baby get me! Baby get me!
And we hold Will like a jet sailing over Jack's head, tiny arms flailing
Getting his brother.
How many times has he sailed that path?
How many more does he have in him before
His legs grow too long
His interest wanes
He places his other foot firmly out of "toddler" and into "boy"?
But just today on the eve of birthday eve
I heard the unmistakable sound of worn plastic tires
Over smooth wooden floors.
Daddy, get me! Get me, Daddy!
And so he does.
Baby get me! Get me, Baby!
And so he does.
Mama, get me! Get me, Mama!
And so I do.
And Rocket Boy goes sailing once more
Into the open sea
The choppy waves of boyhood beckoning him
The siren's call of manhood further ahead on the horizon.
A baby, soon to be toddler, eventually to be boy, someday to be man
Eyes that ship.
Soon baby, not just yet.
For today, go get your brother.
 |
| Rocket Boy takes a break from sailing. The ship parked up against the cardboard boxes used to protect the walls from his rough landings. Sail on, Rocket Boy, sail on! Happy birthday my darling Jack! |
