Earliest Memory

I’m sleepy.

Mom has put me in my favorite nightshirt:

It’s purple and there are letters going down the sides.

It’s the softest thing…

Mom always reads me the letters:

D

Y

N

O

M

I

T

E!

I’m lying on the mossy green carpet,

Looking up at Mom.

She is rocking in the rocker

Where she usually rocks me: today,

She holds a baby, littler than me.

I don’t mind because it is so pretty

And peaceful. 

Sunlight pours through the window behind her,

Limning her in gold.

My mom is the most beautiful woman.

And she rocks, like Mary with baby Jesus.

I’m so sleepy.  Must be close to nap time.

Mom rocks with the baby

And dust motes swirl and dance

In front of my heavy eyes.

10/17/20