McCarthy Family: Uncle Mike turned 50!

Little Boy

by Tamra McCarthy

Just a moment ago

I discovered you moved in

wrapped like a pretzel in your

one womb home,

me living in the loft just above

the heart that beats like a steady

knock, knock on the door,

your name carved

on the inner walls as you

stretch your arms against my skin

to prepare for your grand appearance,

then minutes and hours pass

and you, no longer pink,

no longer curled at my chest

are running through the doors

of your life, head half-cocked in

wonder asking questions about

the world as your face transforms

from baby to little boy

dancing to the music of movers

and telling all your secrets to the stars

painted in the sky, dragon wings, dinosaur bones, skinned knees,

bright eyes, dreams, hello.

Poem modeled after Anne Sexton's "Young"