She is still there when I arrive She is changing daily Giving me hints that I did not notice until today I've been told by her and by others That she wants and needs "a purpose" She asks me over and over She walked me through the lunch line Only after asking if I could sit with her She spooned my food for me As if I was not capable of doing it myself She said she wanted to get up earlier So she could was her beautiful dark hair I raised my hand at that comment And stroked her hair Like bunny fur that isn't out to the elements Of the harsh winter wind Like chick fur Only days after birth If it weren't for the cashier I could have Stood there stroking her hair all day long...
Reason for writing:
This is dedicated to Elisa since she likes these poems so much and because her daughter is ill. Elisa sounds like a wonderful mother.
Birth sign: Libra
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