small, flat feet frantic
in their rush through the dark hallway;
breathless, he tells me
how his nightmare
about a monster
shook him awake
& he is here now, safe
sleeping between us;
so sweet, how his
big-boy head
still fits perfectly
under my chin
when your son is 5
it is easy
to protect him
from imaginary fears
the real stuff
comes later
***since my son woke me up in the wee hours, it is only fair that he inspired this cute little poem, which will embarrass him in a few years 🙂
Susan Daniels Poetry 
A mother’s love and urge to protect lasts a life time! It does not stop at 5! You will see!
Yes! That was just such a sweet moment, and I was so grateful that the protection was against an imaginary threat, this time.
Your poem about him made me think again of the movie “Tree of Life.” This is very touching, especially the last verse.
Jeremy–funny you should say that–I think your clip, on your page, from tree of life triggered my poem here–the birth of the moon.
I’m glad to hear that.
I have been so taken with that movie that I am seeing it in everything. And his portrayal of childhood is astonishing to me.
I am really enjoying your work!
Thank you Jeremy–my birth poem was a child of the clip on your site, and walking in the moonlight with my daughter–the poem would not have come without both leaving impressions on me 🙂
The enjoyment of work is mutual, as well–love your poetry.
Thank you. . . on all counts. 🙂
Miss those years and those moments. The real stuff, later, is so much harder to wrap your arms around. Thanks for the return to yesterday Susan, if only briefly.
Glad to take you back–we can lose the sweetness, in the midst of experiencing it, if we’re not careful.