A Poem for a Thursday #147

The good thing about having kids is that they grow up. That is also the bad thing about having kids. My kids are 16 and 20 now and I am simultaneously thrilled with them and nostalgic for the days when they were little. I like this poem by Dorianne Laux about a growing daughter. Laux is an American poet. When talking about her writing she said “Craft is important, a skill to be learned, but it’s not the beginning and the end of the story. I want the muddled middle to be filled with the gristle of living.”

She is twelve now, the door to her room
closed, telephone cord trailing the hallway
in tight curls. I stand at the dryer, listening 
through the thin wall between us, her voice
rising and falling as she describes her new life.
Static flies in brief blue stars from her socks,
her hairbrush in the morning. Her silver braces
shine inside the velvet case of her mouth.
Her grades rise and fall, her friends call
or they don't, her dog chews her new shoes
to a canvas pulp. Some days she opens her door 
and musk rises from the long crease in her bed,
fills the dim hall. She grabs a denim coat
and drags the floor. Dust swirls in gold eddies
behind her. She walks through the house, a goddess,
each window pulsing with summer. Outside, 
the boys wait for her teeth to straighten.
They have a vibrant patience.
When she steps onto the front porch, sun shimmies
through the tips of her hair, the V of her legs,
fans out like wings under her arms
as she raises them and waves. Goodbye, Goodbye.
Then she turns to go, folds up
all that light in her arms like a blanket
and takes it with her. 

Girl in the Doorway
Dorianne Laux

Brona has shared a poem this week.