Houses

I guess time will keep going
and someday you will be my size
squeezing into too-small spaces
to play guest in your daughter’s childhood
—and you’ll make this face to me then, too
from a house we both fit into,
as I come up your driveway, saying hello
from my car ride up to see
how life is coming along for you, roles shifted
to everyone’s next stage. Dinner will be on
the stove, your children’s happy shouts
the soundtrack of your joy, as yours are mine.
But for now: be small, and I will gladly fit
into your play-houses and blanket forts,
soaking up these tiny droplets
of a timeless time to cherish: mine in memory
and yours the foundation of a long life yet to live.

October 2020