almost five

most days these daysthe beloved remainssquished between your pillowand the wall, kicked therein your fitful sleep,or tossed there carelesslywhen you scramble out of bedyou are almost five,after all – almost fivebut not yet –

too big for so many things

but not big enough

for so much else

still, there you are

out in front of peers

and siblings

blazing your path

bravely, barely trembling,

and back at home

the beloved waits with

floppy ears and floppy legs

all akimbo

so have no shame,

my love,

to find that, in front of a bigger big kid,

bravely, barely trembling,

you could forswear

yes, even the beloved

and have no shame either,

my love,

in your hot tears, your racking grief,

just two days on

when you thought

you might have loved

the beloved into ruin

for, after all, you are

almost five – but not yet –

I am almost forty

and in the chest

at the foot of my bed,

all tattered,

lies my beloved, too

poem and photo (c) 2016 D. Ohlandt

please only reprint in entirety and with credit given

#40for40