LD
There is a paleness
in her movements-
more than the alabaster white flesh
reflecting it's weakness,
neurological I suppose.
But there are so many theories.
My magic child
who can't quite connect ideas the way most do.
But she is brilliant
hurling sparkling laughter
from that delicate self:
Nothing is easy.
Affectionate creature,
I can't expect anything
of you
except everything
you so eagerly do upside down and inside out.
My Magic Child
all sense gone wild.
Poet's Paper, Anderie Poetry Press, Winter/Spring (Jan)1999
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