"Epiphany"

This poem appeared in the literary magazine Tickled by Thunder and in my chapbook, How to Remember.

EPIPHANY

When in Tim  Horton's, I once chanced to see
a baby in a stroller shriek with glee.
My instant thought: "Thank God it isn't mine.
It's someone else's and I think that's fine."

Its grand-dad fed it teaspoons-full of mush,
then turned back to his own meal, didn't rush.
The baby then began to scream and roar
and threw its rattle on the grimy floor.

The mother fed it more; she did not know
that next it would start sucking on its toe.
At least that kept it quiet, stopped the scream
that  knifed right through me like a dreadful dream.

Then, in dismay, a thought came to my mind:
In my old photo albums I can find
another blond, pink baby filled with glee.
The baby in the stroller looked like me.