my friend said
she couldn’t go
to the sex toy party
had to serve
at the synagogue
© Jacqueline Jackson 2006
Though parents know that their children will grow up and away from them, will love and be loved by others, it’s a difficult thing to accept. Massachusetts poet Mary Jo Salter emphasizes the poignancy of the parent/child relationship in this perceptive and compelling poem.
Somebody Else’s Baby
From now on they always are, for years now they always have been, but from now on you know
they are, they always will be,
from now on when they cry and you say wryly to their mother, better you than me, you’d better mean it, you’d better
hand over what you can’t have, and gracefully.
Reprinted from New Letters (Vol. 72, No. 3-4, 2006) by permission of the poet. Copyright © 2006 by Mary Jo Salter, whose most recent book of poetry is Open Shutters (Knopf, 2003). This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress, and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.
Ted Kooser served as the U.S. Poet Laureate from 2004-2006. For more information, go to www.americanlifeinpoetry.org.