Saturday, April 8, 2017

Wherever she goes

Balancing herself on the edge of a step
our granddaughter reaches
to touch the switch. Asking,
"Can I turn off the dark?"

Soon enough she will learn that "we" say,
"Can I turn on the light?"
Cute phrasing will drift and fade as she
is squeezed into social correctness.

Yet I choose to hold hope,
that there will remain within body and breath
an ever-kindling coal nudging her
to turn off the dark, wherever she goes.


                                   Reading at SpeakEasy 19, Poems of Darkness and Light.
                                        April 8, 2017, Mt. Baker Theater, Bellingham, WA.


  1. I love that. And yes, we work the poetry out of children, then relearn it later in life. Too bad we can't just keep it.