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From “Angsty Poetry”

 

As a parent, sometimes I look at my child and am so filled with love and affection that I might burst! I have treasured every stage of my daughter’s development, always excited to see her growth as a little human being. But she’s not so little any more. Now that we are fully into her teen years, I find myself reflecting back to see how far she has come…how far we have both come.

Four|teen

The wriggling tot snuggled under my chin
    transforms to a plank before the eyes,
    beneath her mother’s clasping hand.
Sharp shoulders and insecurities
    now concealed beneath voluminous folds of fabric
    occasionally granting a stiffened lean of affection.

Crayon scribbles and sticky papers
    now present as digital art, videos, and music,
    the new, modern brand of pebbling.
I cherish each message, deceptively casual,
    no note, no comment attached
    but the inclusion priceless, treasured.

She’s cut all new teeth,
    sharp with wit and biting sarcasm,
    floodgates for a torrent of words and laughter.
Voice enriched by hormones, thick with a syrup of emotion,
    but the giggle, the cadence, the lilt
    remain timeless.

My teen, a child, a burgeoning adult,
    all rolled into a single shifting form
    addled with anxieties and tumult.
Liminal, ephemeral, this adolescent evanescence,
    a universal condition, dreaded, loved,
    experiential connection between parent and child.

 

Thanks for reading.

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