Pedestrian View

Guest poet Kylie writes in honor of Maia’s fifteenth birthday.

at age 15

she does a squirmy dance.
hair of a man on her legs,
on her head; of a goddess.
wearer of Chacos,
whose eyes disappear when
she smiles a
grin so wide
her face should split.
heart of a lioness.
squeal of a pig.
peals of laughter
come from deep within
a soul untainted.
no anger over petty fights.
no tears over split milk.
forgiving.
if you squeeze her,
she may pass gas.

proof that Jesus walks the earth.

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And a blast from the past. This must be birthday number 10.