Two Adams

I remember the first at the age of ten,
auburn hair and freckles, excited about
baseball, basketball, soccer, anything
he could play with his big brother
and friends. So hot-or-cold, he
loved or hated you, not hesitant
about making either feeling crystal clear.
Many's the bitter day I warmed myself
by the fire of his affection.
Now the second's that age, bristled
buzz cut and skin tanned to perfection,
excited about computer games,
xbox, skateboards, anything he can
get better at by practicing, beat the game,
learn the trick. So sensitive, he's not
yet learned to get the anger out in
altogether healthy ways. It's there;
we're working on it day by day. A toucher,
like the first, like me, he dries
my tears with one big sloppy hug.
Many's the bitter day I warm myself
by the fire of his affection.
Of all the things he seems to have inherited
from the namesake uncle he has never
met, his love for me, understandably,
means the very most.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013

Happy 10th birthday to my grandson, Adam Rogers Gillette II. I love you!