NOW YOU ARE THREE
Words fly from your mouth like curious birds
or drift, like seeds, on a late summer’s day.
How rich your lexicon is! Language learning
is encrypted – a secular miracle.
You do a cherubic ‘Twinkle, Twinkle,
Little Star’ – and a thrash metal version!
You know your first and surname – sound them clear
as for a roll-call, announcing your
determined, fragile independence.
“What’s dat?”, “Why?” You are avid for knowledge,
understanding. Someone says, “Heavens above.”
“What’s ‘heaven’ mean, Grandma and Grandpa?”
We haven’t the heart to say, “Only the sky.”
You do not know and never will just how much
your first three years have changed our lives: seeing you
squirm, smile, crawl, walk, talk – begin to master
letters and colours. You paint in rich hues
with brush, sliced potato, your tiny hands.
You touch black print with pale finger tips,
as if to gently conjure it to speech,
reveal to you its coded, grown-up secrets.
Keith Johnson
March 24, 2017‘You touch black print with pale finger tips,
as if to gently conjure it to speech,
reveal to you its coded, grown-up secrets’ … wonderful!
Loved the poem, David – thanks so much.
David Selzer
March 24, 2017Thank you, Keith.
Ashen Venema
March 27, 2017?
Ashen Venema
March 27, 2017the last comment seems to come up as a question mark but was meant to be a heart 🙂
Liz Warham
April 20, 2017Hello David
We worked together many years ago.
I recall your kindness following my illness.
I came across your poetry only recently and I have been very moved by your writing.
We are about to have our first grandchild so this poem touched my heart.
I write too, prose rather than poetry and as yet unpublished.