Little Fingers

( a poem for holding on to babyhood )

Little fingers and chubby thumbs are still there
I am clinging on
Grasping babyhood as it slips through my fingers
Indeed
It goes fast
But only when you look back
Flicking through photos and books from yesteryear
Wondering
Was I present enough?
Did I love enough?
Did I be enough?
I know; time will tell
And for now, I shall strain
To grasp babyhood, in all its glory
For as long as those babies of mine
Will let me

Sophie

More poems for this feeling: visit the Poem Library.