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Poem for Henry

August 14, 2012

One of my son Henry’s first and favorite friends is a beautiful, curly-headed, and articulate little star named Clara.

The other day I was surprised and happy to see an email from Clara’s grandmother, Jan Rider Newman. Jan is a poet and explained that last summer she’d written a poem about Henry after seeing him at the playground. She’d decided to share it with me.

I can’t tell you how much I love it. It’s a perfect characterization of Henry, who loves to observe.

(And to eat, of course.)

Brooklyn Playground, June 2011
(for Henry)

Amid hot pink dresses, mint and yellow
silly string, shrills of children bent on fun,
you eat pizza from your mama’s hand,
watch sparrows by the black iron fence,
stroll the asphalt, hands behind your back—
still center in the eye of chaos.

9 Comments leave one →
  1. Ann Weisel permalink
    August 14, 2012 11:35 am

    Oh Meredith, what a keeper!!! The hands behind the back sounds just like our little Chase.

  2. Nancy and Bob Phillips permalink
    August 14, 2012 12:21 pm

    Such a beautiful poetic portrait of our wonderful grandson.

  3. Liz Kirkpatrick permalink
    August 14, 2012 1:28 pm


  4. Michelle permalink
    August 14, 2012 8:07 pm

    Lovely. A pleasure to read.

  5. rachel permalink
    August 14, 2012 8:10 pm

    So sweet and perfectly descriptive. We miss you as usual!

  6. lulusings permalink
    August 15, 2012 9:38 am

    That is a stunning poem! That might have to get typed up, signed, and framed…

  7. Julia permalink
    August 15, 2012 10:41 am


  8. August 15, 2012 4:12 pm

    Just beautiful!

  9. Alana permalink
    August 18, 2012 5:54 pm

    I love it, too. I’ve seen that still center in cowboy boots. What a beautiful boy.

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