… I’m 18

My wife responded with her own poem after reading my effort yesterday. It connects our children and events in our lives with places we have lived in.

Hip dude with chick and groovy chain circa 1972/3

When I see my husband, I’m 18
And his hands touch young flesh.
Collendina

When I look at Neti, our creative firstborn, I’m 20
And we’re playing “zoom, zoom” in the park.
When I think of our Kiki, I’m 22
And I am watching her sturdy little legs carry her along the track.
Kingston Beach

When I see Jac’s smile, I’m 27
And her friends are at the school gate, screaming:
“Hi, Jacqui’s Mum!”
Goodna

When I gaze at Alex’s face, so serene, I’m 29
And she is anything but peaceful, shouting the words of her reader at me.
When I see Caroline, I feel Caroline. I’m 29
And I’m holding my breath until I feel her move, the touch of her feet dancing.
Mt. Gravatt

When I look at Rosey, I’m 33
And we’re having a race to complete jigsaw puzzles.
Leongatha

There’s kindness in Paul’s eyes, I’m older now.
And we’re laughing in church at a Lego joke.
Geelong

There are hundreds of photos, 
A thousand memories,
Countless stories.
They add up to forty years.

Yet when I see my Pieter
I’m 18……