She’s Seven
She’s trying to stick
pomegranate seeds
in spaces
baby teeth left behind
She’s trying to look at
her own eyebrows
by looking up
really hard
She’s silliness embodied
curiosity’s employee
she’ll rescue
flicked creepy-crawlies
with no hope of credit
She’s delicate of heart
we walk on eggshells
her tears never far
She’s making mosaic art
by drawing pieces
of a girl’s face
on three Post-It Notes
an eye on one
an eye on another
a nose and mouth on the third
She’s one part her very own
one part him
one part me
that part made up of
so many pieces
from long ago
pieces that come back
like the memory of
a childhood friend
long-since contacted,
familiar, missed
That was
before I was tired
before I felt inadequate daily
before I wiped pomegranate juice
off the kitchen floor
really hard.
8 replies on “She’s Seven”
Please visit me at http://www.writenic.wordpress.com. If you’re reading Literary Mama, we surely have something in common.
So wonderful, my daughter is seven and I giggled at every line! Thanks for the early morning smile :)
I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Danielle. Thanks for reading. I love that the images made you giggle–seven year olds are a riot, arn’t they?
Oh, what a wonderful poem.
Poignant.
Powerful.
Well done.
Brilliant and beautiful. I’ve got one at home just like her.
Crazy Baby Mama, thank you. What wondeful words you’ve chosen to describe my poem.
Elise, thank you for reading. You made me smile–the thought of you having one at home just like her. :)
Nicole, I just read this as I sit across the room from my toothless seven-year-old who made a picture out of lines last night. You captured this time so beautifully. Thank you. I am going to print it and save it in my “treasures.” (“treasures” being another thing my seven year old taught me)
Amy, I’m truly touched to have a piece of mine saved in your “treasures.” And I love that your sever year old taught you about treasures. Don’t they all, really?