Love, Jody


Still wet with after birth
and amniotic fluid,
you look at me, and
we know each other.

It's as if there are only
two of us and we
are a matched pair, woman
and child, resilient one.

You wake up from surgery
screaming, "Grammy,
Grammy, I want my grammy."
Your mother is hurt.

But from her own lips she says,
"Hunter and his grammy
will always have a
special relationship."

During Thanksgiving Holiday
she packs up and moves
to another state,
apparently to stay.

Does she know you
call me Mommy now?
All our paths are set?
You are my sun, beloved one.