This Is Just To Say . . .

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Four poems in the style of William Carlos Williams’ “This Is Just To Say” (written to my two-year-old, from whom I am always begging forgiveness for some imagined insult).

This is just to say

I have thrown
the banana
you left on
the footstool

and from which
you had only
taken
one small bite

Forgive me
it was disgusting
so brown
and so slippery

This is just to say

I have searched
everywhere
for the stuffed dragon
named "Bunny"

I see 
his absence
has caused you
much distress

Forgive me
but you have
literally 49 other
stuffies to cuddle

This is just to say

I have seen you
sitting
behind the
coffee table

with your
eyes closed
in plain view
of God and everyone

Forgive me
I did not know
you were supposed 
to be hiding

This is just to say

I fed
the dog
before
you woke

You were probably 
hoping to scoop
her kibble
like always

Forgive me
it was delightful
to complete this task alone
so quick, so efficient

*************

Image credit: Jacob van Hulsdonck – Nectarines and plums in a Wan Li dish courtesy of Wikimedia.

9 thoughts on “This Is Just To Say . . .

  1. The one about your toddler hiding reminds me of s my son who used to bend over and cover his eyes when he was “hiding”. Thanks for the memory. I’d forgotten.

  2. I love these. Such a great and accurate glimpse into the life of the mother of a two year old!

  3. haha, awesome! I feel you!

    I carefully listened to your gibberish
    and thought you said “red popsicle”

    But now that you’re pointing outside,
    clearly, you meant “wet bicycle”

    forgive me,
    for not being fluent in your tongue
    where half the words sound alike

  4. Yes. Chuckling here too. Thank you.

    Reminds me of when my four year old niece approached the Christmas tree, newly decorated with many fragile ornaments. Having been told not to touch the ornaments, she was careful to “hide” the fact that she was taking one off the tree. Facing the tree, she got oh so close, head bowed, her back to her mother and me. After removing an ornament an from the tree, she placed it behind her back where we could clearly see it, turned and walked away. Too, too funny.

  5. I sent these to my 32 year old son who used to insist on being the first to enter the house, and had to be held up so he could be the one to turn on the lights. He said those were sweet memories. His brother, now 30, could not go to sleep without clutching a very small Thomas the Tank Engine. So I bought more than one to avoid catastrophe. I still have one in one of my drawers.

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