child at this age,
i think, in a sweaty panic,
as she hints
over the phone
that she may have a biscuit
in the oven.
am i prepared
to push a stroller up
the street,
change diapers,
and take
the eventual growing
kid to soccer games?
to school plays,
then explaining painfully
the birds and the bees
as the child rolls its eyes
at me.
am i ready once more to
do it all over again,
from scratch?
quickly i pray
the prayer i used to use
in high school
and college, please help me,
dear lord,
and make it not so,
i say
as i hit my knees.
i'll be good from here on
out, i promise. you'll see.
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