Chloe at Seven

I'm posting this for my friend who wants me to write about more cheerful things.  I wrote this for Chloe when she was three.  And even though she is fifteen now, it brings me back in an instant.

Chloe at Seven

Lumpy bear dangling;

tousled hair.

Soft round feet pad gently and

carry her uncertainly, drunken

with a full night’s rest until

she is at my bedside.

Sleepy eyes blinking;

china-doll cheeks.

I turn my head to see the clock, but

it will show what I already know—

seven.

Dimpled hands reaching;

a whispered hello.

Gathering her in

a sweet embrace

I breathe in her scent and sigh—

a beautiful day

already.