August 2006

My daughter turned 21 in August. 

She was born on a palindrome. 

I wrote her a poem for her 18th birthday (right).  I was feeling emotional because she hardly spent any time at home.

She's here all the time now, so I didn't write her a poem this year.  Anyway, I was too busy transforming the garden into a sort of fairy paradise (below) for her party.

Yes, that's a real fairy you can see in the photo.

Eighteen Years

When you drew pictures of yourself

You drew me

In French homework,

Asked to describe yourself,

You described me

In conversation you mimicked me,

You scolded people who disagreed with me

You quoted me

You laughed at my jokes

I thought life would be like this forever,

Or at any rate, I hoped it would be

When we travelled the world together

When you were young,

When we were both young, actually,

We collected shells on the beach

We shouldn’t have done; it disturbs the ecology

But anyway we collected them and brought them home

And I kept them for the memories

You’re rarely here, these days

But do you remember

That time in November,

When we put up the fairy lights?

And they wouldn't hang right?

We smashed half the bulbs, by mistake,

And we laughed all night.  Remember?

You came home a few days ago,

And looked for the shells in the shed, where they’re kept

You tipped them in your lap and examined them

Sitting in the sunshine on the back door step

I went and sat next to you

So we could look at the shells together

And when you went away again, I cried