Dont think about the freckles he, or she,
?Might have, or how much hair, how big a grin,
?Or whether swimming would come naturally,
?Or whether” it? ”might play the violin.
Dont think of prom, dont think of puppy love
?Or calculus, or snow, or spring in bloom,
?Or anything that might remind you of
?The future now contained within a womb.
Dont feel anxiety, dont feel regret,
?Dont fret about some otherworldly guilt.
?Dont feel the bond of parenthood, dont let
?Insane outmoded Don Quixotes tilt
At private windmills”dont spill any ink
?Examining yourself. Dont feel. Dont think.
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