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DREAMER
Before
you could crawl
you
laughed at our faces.
You
invented
peek-a-boo
yourself,
clever
darling.
You
could see upside down,
you
sat, you rolled,
pat-a-caked
the table.
Holding
a chair,
from
a few months
you
swayed and bopped
to
our CDs.
You
stare in wonder
at
trees and rain
when
you go to the park
in
your slant pushchair.
A
genius with shapes
(of
course)
you
suck gnomes on the noses
and
savour their soft labels.
Supported
each week less and less
you
move, you look round.
You
love to get round us.
Clever
darling.
Your
inventory of sounds
tries
new sharps and flats
almost
daily
though
some days
you
give rhetoric
a
bit of a rest.
You
dream. You copy.
We
copy. We dream.
We
are trying hard
are
we not
to
change places?
Alan
Marshfield
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