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2020-10-16T17:44:10-04:00October 18th, 2020|Parenthood|

On turning seven

You add this day to your age
like it’s Halloween candy,
greedily,
grabbing at it,
like you would add fifty more years
right now if you could.

You are impatient to catch up
to everyone, to hurry up
this slow conquest
over the wretched stubbiness
of being little.

You want decisive recognition
of being seven
so I have agreed to let you
pierce your ears,
even though I keep apologizing
to your earlobes
when you are sleeping.

You want cupcakes
and singing
and a lot of attention.

At first I suggested
we skip the party
because we still can’t gather inside
but when I mentioned it
your face looked as though
I had proposed we sell
your granny.

And then I remembered.

I remembered
how monumental it felt
when I was your age
to swing open that gate
to another year.

So your party will be in the rain
and I will bring music
and the children will dance in the mud,
and maybe I will too,
just to show you
I remember
how good it feels
when everyone pauses
their regular lives
for a few hours
to corroborate
your joy.

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