I’m reserving a moment in time to fix my eyes on you.
Each day at three precisely
you step off the bus and I get to see you.
Acute little child with three bow clips
and blond sassy hair of which I’d like to snip
in order to smell your sweet strawberry shampoo.
Each day you use at quarter to you.
You are my child I swear in the name of--
God! Please she’s mine.
A mother always knows.
If you look in my eyes you can see her reflection inside--
the translucent frost gray.
Clones we are of eyes.
I will move her
to be in--
She’ll be free to clean her mind because she’s safe,
not just set a side.
Choose your side.
These two lives can’t collide.
Don’t cry now
Mother’s here for you.
Ready for a car ride?
I’ll be at the bus STOP!
at quarter two.