My Daughter (Age 7)

She is like her grandmother
elegant and precise in style,
overdrawing hair and flaunting her inherited mannerisms
every morning a new show,
a cautious and a refined display of courage.
This child has clear common sense, perceiving every day
as an opportunity to imitate life and create new meanings
from simple words. How many arenas are echoing for her
in mindful conversations, the breath of a small woman
unfazed by standardized expectations.
Some rainbow of the mind worn in garb
of coordinated color and light, an aura, a vision
of herself in determined choice—
pride is such, a head to toe sort of performance for a young child,
an accessorized companion who somehow belongs to me.
She doubts that, walking forward
with kindness and independence trailing behind.


13 thoughts on “My Daughter (Age 7)

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