Posted in Poems, thoughts, Uncategorized

Babysitting(12.21.16)

Faster than the speed of life,

I glimpsed myself in an old rocking chair

with shaky palms clasping a handpainted mug.

A giggle transported me back to the passing present,

pressed tightly against me

the child with soft baby hair

, the aroma of freedom from his scalp.

I almost cried,

knowing what he did not yet know:

All it turning, growing only to wilt.

I opened my mouth to utter a warning

but was  met only by the silence

of my love for the child.

Instead, I held him on my lap

and handed him another block to stack.

I watched him push it over,

that lopsided tower we built…

this to must pass, I suppose.

 

Eighteen on the verge of entering the world,

I mused to him, you and I,

we are quite alike after all.

 

-Eva M.M

 

Another musing the fleetingness of life and how quickly I find myself and those around me growing up.Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts with me in the comments below.

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”

 

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Author:

I am a young and enthusiastic writer, fresh out of highschool and into college at IUSB. I babysit and work and live life to it's fullest. I write. I read. I do yoga. And plan to become. Yoga intructers as well. I grew up on a farm and can't,t wait to move back to the country in my tiny house I have already planned out. Sometimes I'm a little melodramatic but rarely. I'm a spiritual healer, a hopeless romantic, a book worm, and very nostalgic. Thanks for stopping by.

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