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the baby turned fifteen
today. she was in good spirits
as we lazed about. consuming junk
food and junk media. we laughed. how can
a poem be written to do any of this
justice. children become real people
like sun light unfurling at dawn. it happens
everyday. cyclical. aging. she unwrapped
her gifts and was gentle, graceful, grateful.
i remember a conversation with my mother
a few weeks ago, about how unfair it is- the
blame children lay at their parents feet.
all i can hope for is that we are doing no harm.
little damage. as we erect boundaries and expect
accountability. at school we discuss the impracticality
of teaching and assessing dispositions, virtues and values.
fifteen years into this process and it still feels like
we’re feeling our way around in the dark.

the baby turned fifteen
today. she was in good spirits. there is
still so much i need to tell her.