A Message to the Middle Child

A poem written for my middle daughter who doubted my love.

I don't know why
You think you're the forgotten child
When inscribed upon my mind and heart
Are all these images of thee.

There you are at three
in the yard
With the neighbor children
Your tangled blonde curls
Blowing in the breeze.

And then that evening
You entertained us all
With that crazy hat
And spoon to your mouth.

How come I remember
So clearly
The morning you came to tell us
It was "soggy" outside.

Or my pleasure at seeing you
Upon the high school stage
Acting out your torment
In a role not meant for you.






Don't make yourself
The forgotten child
Something that's not meant to be
When inside my heart and mind
Are all these lovely images of thee.















Don't make yourself
The forgotten child
Something that's not meant to be
When inside my heart and mind
Are all these lovely images of thee.