Dolly in a push chair.
Christmas,
and carpet stains.
An eight year old girl.
Drawing me.
On a whiteboard.
Just off the kitchen.
A clenched hand spiralling.
Generous to my lack of hair.
A tiny thumb in mouth.
A runny nose.
The concentration,
on my spectacles,
intensifies her eyes,
to pin spots.
She is done.
Well almost.
Scrawling underneath.
Pressing harder to make it count.
She writes.
Ralph is elastic!
She already knows too much.
This Ruby.
