She still doesn't like to drink
anything unless you
count answers
because she'll drink
you dry asking--
abstract words
will be dripping
with meaning
you've wrung into her
bucket of thoughts.
She asks to make dessert,
maybe cinnamon toast.
She tells you she's
used too much sugar
(force yourself to swallow
with a smile).
She creates and crafts
construction paper hair
for her doll, a
picture of LOST's island
for Daddy, a pillow
for Mommy imprinted
with her small hand. She
goes to pre-school and becomes
older, talking about kids you
don't know, her world bigger
than what you contain, her body
nearly too big to hold
when she sleeps,
her ingredients and ideas
beyond what you supply
(more than the love
of one person.)
She poses just how
she wants to stand
no matter what you think.
She digs her
own thoughts
in Poppa's garden,
piling up questions
like a bucket of potatoes.
--Aunt Linda
6 comments:
Lovely!
Linda has really captured Anna's spirit.
That is perfect. What a great poem and such a special gift for Anna.
We're so lucky to have Aunt Linda. :)
Cool! Definitely sounds like a kid I'd like to know.
Ahhh..what a blessing to have an Aunt Linda loving you.
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