August 13, 2006
It’s nice being able
to glide down the stairs and into a room
like a leaf falling down, like you just did
baby Clare, because from what I remember,
there’s that long twisted tunnel
that nobody likes, but it didn’t
seem to bother you one bit, flying out
with your flaming red hair
and your blue eyes darting everywhere.
For a moment,
you could have been
your great aunt Clare, lah dee dahing
down the stairs and chatting everyone up
about her latest whatever
which it turns out is you.