Baby-proofing is not men wearing condoms
or women popping pills,
it is a process that involves locking
mechanisms
and elevation.
In various combinations,
I have tried both-
but now she comfortably reaches
my heights
and effortlessly spins back and forth
opening lockers with magic numbers
that are hers alone.
I have hidden all painful memories,
the sharpest points,
behind my forehead.
Too close for comfort,
she reaches my shoulders
and rest her head there.
She is drawn toward the sealed letters,
she wonders, prods, and asks
what do they say
yet I know she will choke on the words
made not in her mother tongue.
She persists, pleading,
if you knew-why didn't you?
I don't have all the answers,
I took all the chances,
she stole glances
while I stuffed my pockets
with copper thoughts
being the safest place,
unlike the mouth
we learn the heavier our legs become,
we find memories can be-come
choking hazards.
Painting by By Waugh, Ida, d. 1919 (artist); L. Prang & Co. (publisher) (Flickr: Baby Seated) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
