72. Noticing the Crocus
My grandson Zachariah is now 23 years old, but when he was almost two I did a great deal of day care for him in my home in Nyack, NY. During the day we usually went for a walk, and over and over again, I learned something from him. On this day I learned about noticing. I put it into this poem in pantoum form:
Twenty Months Old
—
Twenty months old, pausing in his walk
To see for the very first time
One small brave crocus announcing spring
Dressed in purple and white against the ground.
—
To see for the very first time
This flower as small as he was
Dressed in purple and white against the ground,
He caught his breath and pointed with delight.
—
This flower as small as he was,
Something new–not there on yesterday’s walk,
He caught his breath and pointed with delight
Babbling syllables with meaning just for him.
—
Something new–not there on yesterday’s walk,
He gave it notice, and hurried on
Babbling syllables with meaning just for him
Excited at this new discovery.
—
He gave it notice, and hurried on
Then suddenly he stopped, looked back and waved
Excited at this new discovery,
Saying goodbye to something special.
—
Then suddenly he stopped, looked back and waved,
Twenty months old, pausing in his walk,
Saying goodbye to something special,
One small brave crocus announcing spring.
—
© Copyright Ann Freeman Price, 1991
