It’s the way the bag bounces on her back
as she runs the alley to school.
Late again, but determined today
to stick to all the rules.
I don’t get it right all the time –
if ever. Yet she forgives me with her hand
that reaches out to curl around mine
before she sinks to dreaming land.
It’s the smile she saves to seek me out
when she wins her latest Gold.
It’s the hug she gets, win or lose,
for being so brave and bold.
It’s the trust she has in her big round eyes
that I’ll treasure in my box.
She’s about to grow, to become her own.
For now, she truly rocks.
A poem for day four of NaPoWriMo: love without saying love