November 20, 2017
"Mes de los Muertos"

 

Rebecca, Child Pilot

 
 
 

At the age of four Rebecca believes
my '97 Toyota can fly to the North Pole
on five-dollars-worth of gas,
where a lion on vacation from Africa
crosses the iced runway
and romps with polar bears.

I smile, aware of the real world,
its violence, demands, and misunderstandings.
In my granddaughter's imagination
pilot-parent-child roles interchange
at whim. Night and day
reverse in a single breath.

To Rebecca, a person's skin color
fits like a comfy shirt.
Black, White, or Tan doesn't matter
as long as it conforms to a hug.
Old or young, rich or poor, fat or thin,
our little girl sees magic in anyone.

As the two of us walk over tundra,
dry pavement if we weren't pretending,
the casual observer could think
the older leads the younger across traffic.
Instead the wiser one directs her elder
into simplicity.

Article © Terry Petersen. All rights reserved.
Published on 2015-09-14
Image(s) © Terry Petersen. All rights reserved.


1 Reader Comments

Anonymous
09/15/2015
12:40:10 AM

How often the young lead us. What a delight to be able to share in their present, which likely was part of ours once.

Add your own comments!
The Piker Press moderates all comments. The commenting policy can be found
here.
Name

Email

Comments




By Terry Petersen: