Sunday, November 29, 2009

In Retrograde

I'm watching her grow young.
She's finding wonder in the simple things
Finding newness in the familiar,
Unlearning all the things she once taught me

She's traveling backwards at the speed of light,
With snowy hair and vertigo,
Dizzy and unnerved as the past shrinks small out of sight,
With familiar ground re-appearing beneath her feet

She's learning how it is not to coordinate her limbs,
How not to be in charge,
How to be dependent
And to wonder what comes next.

She's reclaiming peace with the unknown:
Afternoon naps,
Loving hands buttoning her down and caressing
As she blushes at her new-found ignorance.

Unsettled, unfocused, unsure,
But never unloved
She's whizzing in reverse
Growing older and younger.

I'm happy to hold her hand.