Thursday, November 16, 2017

November 16: Transformers

Each morning you wake abruptly with an agenda
                                 and scuttle into my room.

I pretend to be asleep as I listen to you
turn on the heat, making transformer
sound effects while you warm your little body.

I lay in bed and imagine the next hour.

I will ask if you want cereal, and you will proudly request an eggy sandwich
                                   so you can get big and strong.

You are so attune to growing
                                   tall, healthy, strong, like a transformer.

You’ll leave the crust on your plate and I’ll try to coax you.
You’ll leave the crust and I’ll say, you’re not ready

until you brush your teeth. You’ll whine, growl, scream
I don’t want to! But you’ll walk to the sink

as long as I’ve got my eye on you. When you brush
                                    the foam will drip down your chin

you’ll contort your wrist to get to that unreachable side

and I will remind you to spit before
your toothpaste lather drips. You will run

out of the bathroom and beg to watch Optimus Prime
In your cardboard box transformer suit. The one

I cut for you. The one you decorated in smeared
glitter glue, crayon, marker, pencil, paint. A new
daily decoration for your armor.

I lay in bed and wonder if you would believe
you are stronger braver more heroic than Optimus.
You are real. You grow a little
daily, I watch you transform to the tall
healthy, strong man you will someday become.

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