He likes folding
\npaper, the precision
\nOf the line, the crisp shape folding
\nAnd unfolding in his hands,
\nThe flight of wings in air or
\nThe box that fits in his palm.
\nThe older child wants
\nto do my makeup
\nThough no one will see it,
\nThe soft brush of fingers
\nOn my eyelids, the delicate drawing
\nOf one black line across my lid.
\nI wake and pull on clothes, kiss them
\nAnd leave to walk by the river,
\nThrough the mud, I could not
\nTell you the reasons why,
\nThough there is a whole bank of catnip
\nRenewed after the winter, though
\nThe knotweed pushes its fingers up again,
\nAnd the trout lily returns.<\/p>\n
April 2020<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A Poem by Adrie Rose…<\/p>\n