Noticing the Crocus

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