Freya Manfred: "To My Son, Laughing in His Sleep"

Since he was a baby
I have awakened in the night
startled
by the bell-sweet sound
of his laugh.
I am propelled,
cold, knees creaking,
across the cluttered floor
to his bed,
my face above his face:
yes, he is asleep,
and smiling.

Back in my bed I hear again
his high warble.
How I envy this boy
who is not mine,
who was never mine.
How I praise him
for making everything in the world right
for one moment.



"To My Son, Laughing in His Sleep" by Freya Manfred. Text as published in My Only Home (Red Dragonfly Press). © 2003 by Freya Manfred. Reprinted by permission of the poet.

Curator's note: The poet also encourages you to browse the artwork of her sons at this link.

Art credit: Photograph of "Baby G" by April Newman Photography.