Will Schmit
Sep 1 · 1 min read
photo by Daiga Ellaby at Unsplash

The dream fogs forward.
We’re weeks away
From grand baby to be,
Plums barely clinging to the branch.

The ocean, a little further than
The next door rooster, breaks on the beach
Morning after morning, anticipating footsteps
As our family strolls.

The math of compassion adding up,
The little ones makes us larger.
Passing down humor, songs,
And curls, decades away from going grey.

God has no grandchildren, the one thing
We can pity. The smallest finger
He’ll ever feel in His hand
Is ours.

Other Doors

From haiku to hefty memoirs - poems, stories and essays that break through the bullshit. Looking for pieces that go far beyond cliché to uncover a new realm of possibilities. Other Doors features writing that leaves the reader with genuine congenital reactions.

Will Schmit

Written by

Poet . Provocateur. New book Head Lines at www.schmitbooks.com Top Poetry Writer

Other Doors

From haiku to hefty memoirs - poems, stories and essays that break through the bullshit. Looking for pieces that go far beyond cliché to uncover a new realm of possibilities. Other Doors features writing that leaves the reader with genuine congenital reactions.

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