Kaliope

I knew when they placed
you in my arms
and I switched
from talking to them
to talking to you,
that I was yours.

Nothing prepared me
for your wee little eyes
peeking open to see
if I was hooked for life &
if I would be bringing a bottle.

Thousands of worries
suddenly spring to mind:
Am I supporting your head?
Did I wash my hands?
Will you get into college?

Sensing my angst, you squirm
and wave your tiny little fingers.
So much expression in your face,
so little I actually comprehend.
Are you hungry little one?

Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?
Do you want me to read you a book?
Where the Wild Things Are?
Treasure Island? Mobi Dick?
Could I fetch you the moon?

No, nothing like all that.
You just need to burp.

— Craig Cowden