I am coming to terms with a new identity.
Not the one she is growing, so surely,
but I am trying on new shoes.
I am looking in a mirror in the spare moments
between her quiet breath
and her insistent exclamation.
She is the monarch of most thoughtful moments,
leaving few free for this endeavor,
her hungry eyes are pools of requirement.
Compared to her observation, so persistent,
so full and all-consuming, my
hasty reflex pales and shrinks to trite.
I am born anew, perhaps, but my birth is weighted,
it retains half a lifetime of grimy emotional detritus.
Hers is pure, unvarnished, angelic… sublime.
I almost titled this post ‘Drama Answers Dream’.