For the granddaughter
For Maggie
Have my tears dried?
her sweet face presented to me.
Feeling her sorrow
still, knitted brow, eyes tragic,
she looked to me to say
they were gone.
She was feeling the
injustice of a four-year-old's pride
in the little heave of a sigh,
Have my tears dried?
For Caitlyn
Painting toilet paint on the walls,
She wreaks havoc in the halls,
A basting brush and a handy source of water,
A commode to me, but to a granddaughter...
A magic, glimmering, bucket of paint.
Oh, say it ain't,
Oh say it ain't so.
She's painting toliet water
on the walls.
Both are precious and
Both are precious and heart-tugging in different ways.
The first is a searing casualty of our unsparing reality: a child facing adult-sized pain and the second, some comic relief penned in your witty, signature style that leaves one wanting to laugh and groan at the same time. Not too many people could pull it off with such innate skill, but you turn the everyday into sensitive and cunning art.
Another successful Heron Clan!