The light has faded, along with its promise, and you, snuggled up under ocean covers – light deepening to purple, hiding the mysteries beneath – hopeful for a bedtime chat.
Slats of morning march inevitably across the floor, and with arm flung across your face, you murmur: not quite yet.
A mother’s litany grows as the morning: brush teeth? pack lunch? gym clothes? Questions of love and worry: Are you ready? With ponytail and careless shrug you step into the day.
The direct beams a direct contrast to your non-answers. A whole day apart, a whole world within. Sunshine warms, cold seltzer bubbles and together we sit.
Dinner – poking and shuffling the dreaded broccoli – provides a window into your high-low-rainblow-buffalo: a good teacher, funny classmates, and annoying group work. Twilight falls upon your chocolate eyes, clear and deep.
Back to bedtime, and the hope for a back scratch. Brother and dog nearby, kisses, hugs and belly button checks all given, and the night softens around you.
I’ve tried to capture my daughter (and son) at various moments in their lives – a way to preserve the crazy, beautiful, messy process of becoming. Read other poems about her here.