Saturday, November 1, 2014


To be reborn
I do not think
We need to die.

Call it wishful
If you must,
But there’s so much

Of me in her
I’m gazing at myself
Across the years.

The sunny smiles,
The instant tears,
Insistent curiosity

For knowing
In her, in me

When I was small –
That we are each
A younger child

With siblings
Just the same
In age gap

Caps coincidence.
And when she leans
Against me, snuggling,

I’m sure
That I’ll still be here
After I am gone.

©2014 John I. Blair

Click on John I. Blair for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

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