This Is Alive and Well

by Dot Perisca​

​

It is a great gift to name her again –

to let her be born once more –

her little feet taking enormous steps

a five, a six, a seven, and eight

then she crumbles and laughs

and tomorrow: forgets.

Letting her scrape her knees anew

dismissing old bruises, inviting the blues

crying out: more! if she’s hungry,

now unafraid to demand

having a new chance to look

over a cliff of some sort,

and to stand

the wind like a thousand kind hands

stroking

soft