Joey🐞

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It never was 'cause mommy didn't want you    
That she couldn't have babies like others do.    
    
Maybe God thought she needed you more than me    
Sending back for you before I saw and smelled    
And able to kiss your sweet face damp with birth,    
     
Nuzzling your tousled dark wisps of brown hair,    
And sensing the grasping of your wee pink hands,      
     
As you show me how I guide you to my breast,      
And smiling, as I thrill at your awkward try.    
     
I still feel the faint phantom presence of where    
You grew in the months that we had together.    
     
Joey, you remember how I'd sing to you    
Everywhere I'd go; to the store, to the park.   
     
And, rocking, I'd read to you my poetry    
Of stories I'd make up and all just for you,  
And showed you, through my eyes, the littlest things:    
     
The flowers I picked by the curb of our street.    
One still had a ladybug perched on its stem,    
     
And looking right at me as if to say "Hi!"    
"It looks like your baby will come in the spring!"    
Then, lifting its wings she rose up and flew home.    
     
It wasn't too long before that would be true,    
But fate has a way to throw curveballs at you.    
     
My son was called back to where death is a cloud,    
And Joey's that star to the right of the moon.    
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