If I Had My Own

A Poem

He keeps a nature shelf in his room
of rocks and shells and pine cones,
dried dandelions and twigs.
A time capsule of his treasures.

If I had my own, 
I’d keep the freckle under his right eye,
the drops of ice cream from his chin,
his insistence on wearing jeans and socks,
even at the beach.

I’d keep his voice from the backseat cheering
“skinny moon!” when a crescent hangs in the sky, 
“the bright went away!” when the sun dips behind a cloud.

I'd keep the white blanket we lay on our laps each morning,
the hooded towel with the puppy ears after bath,
the flat, broad tip of his nose, just the right size for my kisses.

I'd keep that moment in the yard, a few days ago,
when he curled an arm around my neck, leaned his body 
into mine and said “Aw, Mommy” with a smile.

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This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Moment in Time".