Nine Does Not Equal Nine
February 8, 2013 by Aubrey Flinn
by Aubrey Flinn
And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be, are full of trees and changing leaves.
-Virginia Woolf
Just for today, nine does not equal nine,
it is another sum,
an age that perches,
a celebrated page,
a heap of advice, murmured predictions,
spells grafting you to me as the girl you are,
not the woman you will be.
My daughter,
how you root to branches,
branch to leaves,
leaf to sun,
weather my watery crusades,
prune my crooned longings,
shrug off this ninth season
as you surely will tuckings-in
from the gowned sky.
I linger in our darkening soil,
tracing tales on your boughs,
measuring palms,
counting our patterned rings.
Aubrey avoids crusts, prefers chocolate babka to bacon, and considers public libraries the finest institutions in the world.
Category February 2013, Poetry | Tags: Aubrey Flinn, daughter, motherhood, Poetry, trees, Virginia Woolf
