On the Night That I Was Born
 
 


by Bruce Lansky
 
   
On the night that I was born,
it was a hot December morn.
The stars were shining bright as day.
The doctor quit and ran away.
When I popped out, my mother cried,
“It’s much too cold, get back inside.”

 

Text © Bruce Lansky reprinted from If Pigs Could Fly...and Other Deep Thoughts, published by Meadowbrook Press. Illustration © Stephen Carpenter. Any copying or use of this poem or illustration without consent is unlawful.

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