the anniversary
of forgetting

i have a memory of you
in a gilded glass globe

soft baby curls glinting
and denim legs running

in a pinwheel
of red blue and yellow

spinning out
from the color-blocked

chuck taylors
i tied to your feet
every morning

you were so fast
and i was so busy

the years told me lies
and i looked away

as you grew
into life’s
perfect stranger

the other day
you asked me
to help
shave your head

it was not a surprise
i have done it before
and you always clean
your own messes

but what i saw drop
to the cold tiled floor
was not simply a month’s
worth of stubble

at your feet
was a clock
made from curls
and lost wheels
marking time
with an amateur’s

you swept it up
and i went to bed

i think that i dreamt
of cracked mirrors


A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo.
Also joining in with PAD (poem a day) over at Writer’s Digest.


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of forgetting”

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