If I had known you would leave
after seventeen months
I would have insisted
on meeting you.
I thought I had more time.
I would have kissed your nose
and used my funny old man voice
to make you giggle.
I would have risked falling
in love with you,
the whitewater river kind of love
that only babies can release.
Even if I had known
that you would be suddenly
gone
and the torn shreds of gasping grief
you’d leave behind
I would still want to hold you
rock you to sleep
watch you adore
your big sister.
You are busy now
doing invisible tricks
to remind your mom and dad
of the feast of wonder you lived
too short
achingly short
but infinite somehow
in the bigness of your being
you were
so very
here.
When you have time
it may be months
or years
would you kindly visit me
in my dreams
I’ll make you laugh
because everyone says
you had to hear it
such a big laugh
for a little boy.