Hope She’s Got Extra Energy

I signed my name in cursive on the sheet
Then took her hand and we walked down the street.
I asked about her day; she said but little
And even that was difficult to hear,
For cars make noise in passing and she’s shy,
But what I caught was that she liked the snack–
They’d eaten cookies (highlight of her day),
She dances hip-hop, tap, and pure ballet,
Her favorite song: Be Careful Little Eyes.

We reach her home and rummage through her pack.
The keys are there; we make our way inside.
Our lunch is simple: PBJs and carrots,
Fast followed by some rounds of hide-and-seek,
Then play-dough, towers, frosted candy houses–
And whether sugar rush or mere placebo
She really starts just bouncing off the walls.
(The candy was her mom’s idea and all.)
My time is up and she is wound up, too;
I round her up and find some shoes that fit her,
Then pass her to her neighbor babysitter.


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Because Russ L asked

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