Those Laughing Eyes

Like a calico cat you grew
up proud and beautiful.

We remember you pointing a little
finger at the pretty
yellow flower patch by
your play-cabin bobbing high on
the rope swing then

scooting past with a handful
of Daisies even stepping
around prickly thistles past
daddy’s hammock and
running like the wind across pieces
of wood for a sidewalk.

Our backyard trees still surround
walls once made of blankets
momma’s old cushion and faded
table still here also that
slab of panel cut for a roof.

Come back soon. And be our
little girl once again.

© Richard & Esther Provencher

First published Spring 1992
Volume Two, Number One
CUMULUS, Windspeak Press
Wood Mountain, Saskatchewan
ISSN-1188-163-2