of the way your tiered skirt
twirls out just so,
a merry-go-round of dizzy
girlish infatuations with
a calliope soundtrack
of how there is nothing
more lovifying than when
we put our heads together
eyeball to eyeball
butterfly kisses right before naptime
of your stomping feet
leaving a wake of boots,
shoes, sandals, dirt,
some stickers from the yard
and the trail of pine straw that
betrays your comings and goings
of your pushing the bed time
stalling with questions and stories
begging me for a song of blessing
which I always deliver
despite the contraband of books
and flashlights I always discover
of all these things, and hopefully more
your lives intertwined with mine,
filling this cup overflowingly,
then emptying it out again
I will write.
Lupita, do you love this girl to pieces or what? So many reminders of my Riley when she was little, especially bedtime and discovering the flashlight and book (usually Japanese manga books!) under her bed. Changing her sheets and pretending not to notice the journal hidden under the mattress… oh, what joy daughters bring. Thanks so much for your potent comment on my abuse poem. Your work here is kind of the antidote for my work! Loved this. Amy
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Amy, yes, I do! Thanks for stopping by and for your encouragement. I hope to be able to do the same for you!
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so sweet… ~ M
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