Cloistered on a sleepy lagoon

a full moon shone a milky blue light.

We choreographed a tango of twists,

turns and twirls never tried before;

little did we know a budding baby boy

would soon be on the way, popping out

of an opalescent membrane with soulful

luminous eyes suggesting he might be destined

to shed light in the darker corners of the world.

We were proud, we rejoiced, goose-bumps rose

in a frenzy of excitement when the rabbit test

proclaimed gestation had begun.

He arrived “as one great blooming, buzzing confusion.”

His skin soft as milkweed floss, his radiant smile

lit up a room like a meadow of sunflowers.

We cuddled and kissed him whenever he cried,

wet diapers and all, loving each tiny finger and toe

even though we were flummoxed by why he kept

us up most nights wanting to be fed or who knows what.

As new parents we didn’t have a clue, blind as nematodes

feeling our way along with a cherubic little angel

swaddled in baby blue mohair sleepers; all he did was eat

and sleep sweet gentle breaths, blissful at the breasts

that once belonged to me.

We monitored fog-horn farts and poops like lighthouse

keepers peering out into a misty sea worried his tummy

apparatus percolated as it should.

Soon he dined on Pablum and multi-colored Gerber’s mush

flinging dribbles and clods decorating the kitchen table

like an unselfconscious Pollock.

He hurled bits of banana like a monkey in the zoo

showing promise of a strong backhand, sure to be

a Wimbledon wanna-be one day.

Because we loved him so much we couldn’t bear the thought

of loss, so within six months we decided to have another.

As Taoist oriented parents we ruled without ruling

striving to meet the gold standard of successful parenting:

He will be independent when he grows up

and will want to be our friend.

Milton P. Ehrlich 199 Christie St. Leonia, N.J. 07605