A Growing Up Son
By Dorothy Markham Brown
It seems but such a little while
Since he was playing at my knee,
And when I spoke to him, my eyes
Would downward turn his face to see.
And now, in just a few short years,
(O God, how short the years can be!)
My eyes must upward turn, for then
He will be looking down on me.
Dear God, if in the years gone by
I have been in some measure fit
To merit childhood’s upturned gaze,
And only quail a little bit,
Please help me in the coming years
A nobler woman yet to be—
That when his eyes must downward turn,
His soul will still look up to me.
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