For Baby Harry
We've only met once You were too little to hold your head up, I was too scared to hold you for long I'm painting your bedroom mint green, hoping your Mom will keep the wood trims black Nothing like a bedroom that looks like mint and chocolate chip ice cream The apartment is quiet now I'm wondering why I'm here It's Sunday, it's hot I should have something better to do than to sit on a stained, gray carpet covered in paint (Sorry about the stains, by the way.) writing to a baby who can't even read When you're old enough you'll wonder whose half-toe print is on the carpet near the door maybe You probably won't ever know it's mine, unless I stay here and get a chance to watch you grow Me staying put is never a guarantee Hopefully I'll finish your room tonight, give your Mom one less thing to worry about Even now I'm being selfish, curious if you'll think of the random woman who painted your bedroom I shoul