I have this little girl

Unlike her younger sister
who stormed straight into my heart like a buffalo
she has quietly been nestling there
since she was born


She looked up at me
with huge deep eyes
black doe long eye lashes
she took her time getting to know me
and watched me cautiously

She has become a little girl of five
with those same intense eyes
she follows dogs in the veld
she conquers trains and planes and all changes
holding her strength closely
baking, drawing
pretending
believing in so much more than we see
the older child
the custodian of all our hearts

The Bed

The double bed
neatly made corners and a brass headrest
stronger to unite  man and woman than a ring


Sleep
from  birth a rest of observations, knowledge
awareness
wrapped in tenderness

the single bed
a hostel room
a hotel room
a respite from interaction
a place to take comfort in being
alone

Why can a single bed not have even more meaning
separation but no less affection
no discussion, no need
independent dreams
for some
the necessary break at the end of a day
a squaring off, a safe place
an artist's place with a yellow blanket
why can this single bed be so frowned out
so feared?

Time

He says
we have lost too much time
he says
we are always losing time
because of me

Where does lost time go?
I am sitting in the back seat of the car
confused
in my world
the time is always ten to two
on the plastic pink arms of my fancy new watch.