Katie

Written for the memory of a little girl - I wonder if she remembers me?

I remember her little pink sneakers,

The bubble-gum perfume of her uncut hair,

The fake cake in her little plastic kitchen.

She didn’t ask for much

But I felt as if she loved me like a stand-in mother,

Even if 7 years was all that separated us.

How did I, who fears the innocent enthusiasm,

The innocent ignorance,

these tiny breakable humans,

manage to entertain her without losing my nerve?

We’d roam a carpeted farmyard,

Herding blank-eyed sheep into plastic pens,

Candy-pink pigs and polo mint chickens.

They didn’t make animals noises

But in those moments

they were reality in miniature.

I could hear their gentle brooding clucks,

Smell fresh bread and rich sausage

Through the anaemic plastic shells