The basket at my door

There’s a baby on my doorstep
in a basket and a note that said:
‘I couldn’t show him the world
so would you please do the chore.’

And I stand there
staring down at his face,
he gurggles as he giggles
at nothing but the air;
He reaches up with little palms
grabbing at the skies,
And there’s nothing but confusion
welling in my eyes.

After some consideration,
I drop to my knees-
To stare into his doll-like eyes
as they’re pointed at me.

And suddenly I see the waves
crashing in the sea,
the howling of the wind
that makes a sail out of me.

And suddenly I’m struck again
I fall back into my senses and
I’m kneeling at my door then
I’m thinking some more.

There’s a baby on my doorstep
in a basket and a note that said:
‘I couldn’t show him the world
so would you please do the chore.’

And I stand up and turn around
and simply shut the door.

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