To December
by Ann Lesley Hamvas

Three more months and I will meet you,
the pain in my back and tickling
in my belly, the reason I hate chicken
and chocolate and love gummy bears
and watermelon.  A blurred image
in afternoon dreams, you
are everything and nothing
and I want you to know so much—
that I love you, even the idea
of you, that this world
is horrible and I’m selfish
for starting all the pain
you’ll surely know, but
there’s so much beauty, so much,
and maybe you’ll find a way
to change this world when we couldn’t,
and one day you’ll taste
kiwi and hamburgers,
hear a song that makes you cry,
read a book or watch
a baseball game, and you’ll learn
that everything we told you
was wrong, but right
and true and then maybe
you will watch the stars
or ride a motorcycle and write
your own poem for us
and all we still need to know.