In love and at logger heads
so we seem to be, at the poles
So much like me is she
first born, cluttered, intense,
wanting my love, my acceptance,
to feel my hug, my praise,
my encouragement.
Just as I wanted his.
How my heart melts in her arms,
smiles when she waves from the school bus window
when she gets a good grade on her spelling
the words we struggled over
Slow to rise in the morning, just like me
passionate about that which interests her
Wanting the very best for her,
that her way could be a bit easier,
even when it cannot be.
December 7, 2007
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