10.28.2006

For Will, Who Turns Twelve This February


When our grandmother died, I was strong,
And I held my corner of the family
With both hands, high over my head.
You reached, but could not touch.

Now, the load is lighter, but still you reach;
Stretching every inch, on the tips of your toes
For the weight that is not yet your own.
Someday the weight will return. Someday,

You will be taller than I.
Until then, Will,
Stay small.
I can hold it a little while longer.