For Soren

Smell of grass colliding with the
Roseate house. Because that’s
What things do, little one, they
Collide. You are not here for
Me to teach this to, so I’ll spell
It out for you for later. Listen,
Did you ever see a mouth hanging
Open, and the words just rolling off
Its lips, quivering like plankton in a sea?
I’ll bet you have, and I’ll bet you were
Astounded, but didn’t say anything
Because your own mouth couldn’t form the words.
I see you are growing as tall as a tall pile
Of hay, and you wait for the day
When you can reach something good
And true all by your lonesome.
Someday, I will be your friend,
But until then, Soren, take your
Name, and your metal dinosaur
And your bow and enjoy what these
Times have to offer you. I stand
Around as blankly as the wall that
Holds you up, as silver as the
Waves you fear, but go into anyway.

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Copyright © 2011 Noelle Kocot All rights reserved
from Conduit
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission