A poem for my son

The previous poem was for my daughter. I don’t know if my son will like this one because it doesn’t rhyme (“Lil Wayne and Drake’s stuff rhymes, Mom”), but I hope it’ll do.


While we ran errands, I thought it was morning

but two-year-old you swore it was afternoon.

I learned then not to argue,


not when you said,

“I blow bubbles all the way to the moon,”

even though you blew them straight at the sun.


An ordinary backyard stick in your hands

became Stick The Great,

brandished at miles of unnamed villains


You ran down the hill and up,

all the way to school and back. Two miles —

every single day.


A crow swooped down and stole your brand-new glasses.

I said to give up, but you gave chase.

The crow returned your treasure.


Contacts now.


On moonlit nights you run down the road and up

When I come back from running errands I say, “Good morning.”

It’s already afternoon.


  1. Really well done. This is a treasure.

  2. It’s difficult to catch up with children. And these words show how beautiful it is, and difficult, to look back. Yes, this poem is a treasure.

  3. And believe me when I tell you this, Megan – before you know it, it will be evening. Cause that’s where I am – and it happens in a blink. Then again, it can feel like a literal ice age some days. I hope he loves it – because I sure do.

  4. i love your place here, megan… and your poetry. i will be visiting again, and am adding you to my blog-roll. bless you.

  5. Megan, I just ‘found’ you via The High Calling and Nancy Franson’s blog….such an interconnectedness.
    I have grandchildren…and a grandmother’s perspective…
    I could see this 2 year old when you started the poem and my breath was gone by the time I read the last line, “It is afternoon.” I’m with Diana, blink again and it will be evening.
    your children will relish the treasures you leave them–in your life and on paper.

  6. JP would have loved to have the “crow stole my glasses” excuse. (And as I say that all I can think is “the dingo got my baby…” Sorry.) Anyway. She is a wise parent who concludes early that for some things, there is no point to argue.

  7. I LOVED this…I don’t know your son…but you characterized one of mine perfectly!!!

  8. Oh Megan. This just made me cry. Until I read Lyla’s comment about the dingo stealing the baby.

    What a beautiful way to offer a piece of your heart to your son–even if it doesn’t rhyme. ;).

  9. As a mother of boys, how this one made me smile. Glasses-stealing crow, contrary bubbles in the face of the sun, and all that running. Sure hit home. I hope your boy loved it too.(If he doesn’t now he will later). Just lovely, Megan.

  10. Yep. I’m crying with Nancy when I’m not laughing with Lyla.

    • And…this makes me think of that poem by Langston Hughes (Mother To Son), which is also beautiful in such a different way.

  11. Deidra left a link on twitter and I came over from there. This is beautiful and I can relate. It is all over so quickly…they grow up and they are out on their own.

    I do have to smile at the crow stole my glasses and dingo got my baby! 🙂

  12. How beautiful your mother memories captured in words for him to enjoy now and savor in years to come… something tells me he will prefer no rhyming anyway. Your words bless him and me.

    Megan, I enjoy your very ‘matter of fact’ voice that captures truth in simple beauty… without mincing words. It’s very comfortable and peaceful here… =)

  13. Rubybeets says

    Very nice!