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Lauren

Today, I opened your old closet
door and my
finger traced over
short pencil lines

etched in the wood;
they formed a carbon ladder

of yesterdays. For a moment,

I saw your bare feet
peeking beneath a cotton
nightie,
you stood like the wispy

daisies growing near our fence.
I steadied my
hand to measure your height,
checking that heels

were firmly on the ground.
Nine years ago, when
the last mark
was made, your upturned face

became womanly.
Flaxen hair intertwined with
darker
strands about your temples,

a childhood of tea cups
and daisy kingdoms were
swept
into the curtain hem.

Your blue eyes leveled with mine--
and nothing
between us
looked the same.

Karen Kelsay is a native
Californian who grew up near the ocean and spent most of her childhood weekends
on a boat. Many of her poems are about the sea and nature; she loves formal
poetry and writes in meter as well as free verse.   She is the author
of Collected Poems by Karen Kelsay, and two chapbooks--Fist of
Roots and Forever in Avalon.

© 2008 All Rights Reserved.