They are downstairs, away from my office
romping and shouting, in the living room
I hear their squeals, their play, their joy
in being, in being children. They know, know some at least
of what is to come, the change in our lives
to come tomorrow. That they will share my name
our lives joined more fully in some ways,
my joy made more complete, maybe;
but they have been my girls, far longer
A volunteer joining the bedlam, the realities
of parenthood, of children not my own
balancing my life anew with her, with them
sharing so much more of life, with this precious gift
a family, not a couple, children of my own
in so many ways, when the judge rules
and our fate is sealed, grafting a family
foreign shoots to the old trunk, the
family tree of my heritage, my blood
Sharing them with her, our bonds made stronger
with the chance to recast our past, our future
September 27, 2006 16:24
(Raymond A. Foss)
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Based on Topics: Life Poems, Fate & Destiny Poems, Past Poems, Law & Regulation Poems, Children Poems, Change Poems, Chance Poems, Family Poems, Parents PoemsBased on Keywords: trunk, stronger, sealed, gift, joining, bonds, shouting, shoots, heritage, downstairs, romping