Sunday, September 25, 2005

Tatiana, Sophie’s child

Lavigny 9

By Mila D. Aguilar

There she was,
A mere 18 months,
Foraging on the ground
Below me,

Blond and green-eyed
With a sharp upturned nose
That promised to grow
Like her father’s.

She loved the pebbles
And would bring them up
To her mouth, till
I leaned down to

Look her in the eyes
With a knowing smile.
So she began to be
Interested in the nettles

But they were too spiky
For her small hands
Until she saw, among
The nettles, little

Elongated pieces
Brown with pale green
Patches. I too
Wondered what they were,

Like her. She picked
Them up to show to me.
I did not imagine them
To be as hard as they felt,

Until I looked up to see
They were the same color
As the trunk of the tree
Some feet away from me.

Bark, Tatiana, bark
Falling off the trees!
Bark falls off in autumn
Too, not only leaves!

As amazed at the
Discovery as the child
Was. I have always
Shied away from

Autumns, leaving
Before it comes
To full winter fruition,
But with the knowledge

Of the bark
Falling off like leaves
I think, awaiting 60,
I am ready now

For the dark of winter.

September 25, 2005
5:45-6:13 AM


Richmon Pancho said...

thank you for browsing through my work ma'am! BTW, nice poem!

mda said...

God bless you, Richmon! I hope everything is fine now. Of course, better that it isn't, because that will be your material for writing.