The Perfect Moment by Wendy Brown-Báez
This is another one from my poetry pal.
The Perfect Moment
By Wendy Brown-Báez
Maybe it was when you stretched out on the
couch and said, Sing me a lullaby,
the way you clutched the pillow to your chest
like a young child and I became the
mama who knew what to do for her boy.
Maybe it was when I settled myself to take your
head into my lap, the way you became the man
I had caressed those years of floating
out the evening until we could go to bed
and I would be comforted by human warmth
to mask our haunting fear.
Maybe it was the way you sank into sleep
and I watched your breath rising and falling
until my hand grew still and I fell back against the
pillow and slept as well, satisfied.
I particularly like the way the poet contrasts the title, with its apparent certainty, with the less sure opening of each stanza — Maybe it was …