Coming and going,
\nfinding and leaving,
\ngazing through windows,
\ninto windows,
\nand brushing the wind
\nfrom my hair.
\nHow else to describe oneself?
\nI am not good
\nat the small talk of birds.
\nI can\u2019t start like a lizard,
\nunflappable,
\nwith a stone face.
\nNor is my posture regal as a deer,
\nor my eyes
\nsensitive as a puppy\u2019s.<\/p>\n
The child in me sleeps a lot.
\nHe has had a long afternoon.
\nI shake him occasionally,
\nasking,
\nare you awake?
\nDo you want to play?
\nAre you hungry?
\nAnd he looks back,
\nand sometimes,
\nsomething in his face
\nmakes me sad.<\/p>\n
Where are we he asks?
\nAnd I say,
\nIt\u2019s afternoon,
\nyou are taking a nap.
\nI\u2019ll call you in a few minutes
\nafter I get the pool filled,
\nthe sandbox ready.
\nAnd I let him close his eyes,
\nand I look out the window.
\nForgive me,
\nfor growing old, I whisper.
\nWe\u2019ll catch fireflies later.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Coming and going, finding and leaving, gazing through windows, into windows, and brushing the wind from my hair. How else to describe oneself? I am…<\/p>\n