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Image for the poem Werifesteria

Werifesteria

he’s twelve now,  
on the cusp of thirteen ~  
my fourth trip
to the edge of the fire  
of budding male adolescence,  
watching with pride  
and curious fascination    
as the pudgy faces  
of my little boys  
become angular,  
their jawlines turning sharp  
alongside their tongues  
 
I know the day is coming  
when I will not be  
the most captivating woman  
in his life, but for now  
we will still traipse through  
the woods behind the house,  
gathering fatwood for s’mores  
and memories that will  
anchor our connection  
through the journey onward  
 
I will serve my final  
and decadently ridiculous instruction  
on the living, breathing spirits  
of the forest and on leaning  
closer to the ground  
to hear them speak;  
I will giggle at his rolled eyes  
and heavenward sighs, the same  
as I did with his brothers  
long before him  
 
I will unapologetically extract  
every ounce of every one  
of these fleeting moments,  
savoring every untempered  
hug and every wet kiss  
on my cheeks,  
because I know when he leaves  
the safety of this childhood,  
he will come back  
a changed man  
Written by LunaGreyhawk
Published
Author's Note
NaPo 2021 109 unique words
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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