Not Long After Your Birth

Do not ask me how I got there,

car I suppose

and most likely with Dad

since I can remember him leading

towards the smell of hospital,

across disinfected floors,

between bits of blurred memory.

 

This was where you were.

The new thing,

the small thing,

the ‘cried when the nurse came’

thing.

 

I looked at you,

for a bit.

Then mum gave me chocolate

left-hand side,

white cabinet

between you and her.

Purple packet,

two hand grip,

probably smaller than I remember.

Sizes change

over seventeen years.

Poem for the Daily PromptDaily Prompt

10 Comments

  1. I usually don’t have time to comment on all that I read . . . but I so liked your poem – very very real and you painted such a good picture with words. Ending with chocolate was brilliant! -at least for my taste.

    1. Well that’s what I remember about it, and my mum can’t believe I remember the visit so vividly seeing at I wasn’t even three yet.
      Thank you for taking the time to comment. 😀

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