First in a series of Terry poems about my grandson.


Terry Is Born

I remember there were fireworks
The night you were born.
Little bit of boy, you
Held our heartswell
in your hands.
We gazed, as we left the hospital,
Into the spring night sky,
And fireflowers bloomed, burst
For you – of course
They were for you.





Poetry by Becca Allison
Read 615 times
Written on 2008-04-21 at 18:14

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