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Every curve about you
Reminds me of a swing
Your legs spread out upon the sky
More wings than anything.

Fun is not a baby born
Too early to survive.
Back and forth the cradle goes
My back, your arms, our eyes.

Let me love you mother be
Push you to the sky.
Cry and shake the chain again
You are so very high.

Little one I love you so
Oh please come back to me.
Your skin is whiter than the moon
The playground children sing.

About this poem

A poem about young parents and their unborn child. And a swing.

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Written on September 22, 2022

Submitted by davidsaidit on September 22, 2022

Modified by davidsaidit

28 sec read

Discuss this D Linden Thomas poem with the community:

1 Comment
  • teril
    Thank you for sharing. Your images are sweet and sad - I take them with me: the winged legs, the white skin, the swing...
    LikeReplyReport1 month ago


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"Baby" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 3 Dec. 2022. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/138145/baby>.

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