when he's grown
and ticklish toes
when he's grown
i will miss the way he looks at me
as if i put the stars in the sky
when he's grown
i will miss that sweet smell
he has when he first wakes up
when he's grown
he'll no longer let out that
honey-coated "momma"
when he's grown
he'll no longer graspy my first two fingers
in his sweaty little palm
when he's grown
i will miss all of these things
and grow sad at their disappearance
but when he's grown
i'll love him even more...
because of who he made me






