On Becoming a Foster Parent – December Poem

On Becoming a Foster Parent

Christmastime rolled around, and along with it came a sense of sadness for my foster daughter’s biological mom. I tried to see her as she was, and tried to imagine where her mother was and how she was feeling. I wrote her a letter, then discarded it because at that time I could not assure her that I loved her daughter as much as she did and that everything was going to be okay. Obviously, the epistle was my best option for this month’s poem – detailing the good and the bad, but fully honest in it’s assertions. I didn’t want to include a lot of emotions or abstract ideas in this poem, so I weighted it on the side of concrete details. On the third stanza, I wanted it happier and lighter with sound play.

Foster Parent December

December

 

You wouldn’t know this

But it’s hard not to see you

In her hazel eyes, her square face

Her perfect smile and dimpled chin

You wouldn’t know this

But she spits when she’s angry

And bites the cat

Then spits fur

You wouldn’t know this

But she likes to sweep

Sings her baby to sleep

And counts to twelve – six times her age

You wouldn’t know this

But I stopped judging you a long time ago

Sometimes I want to run away, too

But I will stand holding her hand for as long as it takes

You wouldn’t know this

But she does

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