It doesn't seem so long ago
That she was born.
Though fleeting years brought many trials
That mounted fast,
She stayed ahead of one who ran
In close pursuit.
But two and twenty years were all
That she could last.
He overtook her and at last
Led her away.
Her hasty flight left in its wake
A sober thought
Enveloped in the loss of one
Who'd been so close:
Death catches life much quicker than
We think he ought.
Her birthday next uniquely marks
A special year.
I could have lived my life again
And gladly would —
For she would be the age I was
When she was born —
Reliving both the joys and pains
Of motherhood.
Copyright 1998 James McAlister
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