Mothering Instinct(For Lyn) Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Tears...tears well but don't fall.

Bottom lip
trembles.

Top lip
quivers

& just before she can begin
to howl...

...I howl!

I open my mouth
& - bawl!

Stunned
she stares at my open mouth

with nothing but
sobs coming out.

'I'm...cryin'...'cos...you were..
...gonna...cry! '

I manage to blurt out
(trying not to laugh behind my crocodile tears) .

She climbs up on my lap
(a sturdy little foot on each patella)

wipes my fake tears
away with her hair.

'Ah...Dónall Dónal...not cry! '
'Big boy not cry! Sillly...Dónall cry! '

'Shhhhhhhh! '
she sushes me

kissing a me
(guilty)

of unleashing my four year old's
mothering instinct.l