Poem #211 of 365

I cooed you to sleep with volumes, terms tan carinosos
as to sugar the hardest stone,
but you were such a jewel, the perfect baby brother,
and it was almost hard to believe
that you were here for real.

Baby in blue, that was you, a brother blue ideal
in knitted booties, plaid cotton hats, and suits
for baby gents out for daily strolls.

We taught you to walk, with guiding arms
uplifting your grasping pudgy fists,
until one day, surprise for all,
you showed us your brave steps
amidst the rusting machines
at the nighttime laundromat.

Up and down the street, you wildly played,
and I envied you the many friends your same age
living along our block,
maturing at such an equal pace.

You showed yourself as leader,
the boo boo that commanded activities
in all front yards, but everyone was charmed,
sno-cones and slurpees lured you to their welcome mats.

Your hand-stitched batman cape was a security cloth
and it clung from your neck all summer as the archives
prove, you perched in trees, against blue impalas,
crouching by the curb.

So what made you cry and forsake the cape,
tell me: when did you lose the hero super powers,
and what light inside your deep brown eyes
lost its wattage,
and made you go dark?

As if I didn't know...

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez