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The party guests arrange themselves for a group

photo with the birthday girl at the centre.

She watches us position ourselves – some

on the sofa, some on the floor in front,

some standing behind – then runs to the tripod

and presses the remote… After the guests have gone,

she draws her first spiral – clockwise, perfect,

a spira mirabilis – then carries

her Pooh balloon around the room, requesting

Postman Pat… She hides under her special

blanket. ‘Where is she?’ we chorus. ‘Has she

gone to the river to feed the ducks?’ ‘No,’

she answers, muffled but unequivocal…

Next day, she goes to see the butterflies

in The Glasshouse – each larger than her hands splayed…

Later, she watches a pair of blue tits

begin to occupy the nesting box

on the sycamore though cold winds blow

and there are ten more weeks of winter…

Wonder jostles wonder. Nothing is mundane…

How robust she has become! How delicate still!




© Copyright David Selzer
3 Responses
  • Ian Craine
    September 30, 2016

    And that is the spirit and outlook that we of a poetic disposition endeavour to hold on to throughout our lives. Nothing is mundane. There is significance everywhere.

  • Catherine Reynolds
    September 30, 2016

    A beautiful observation of a child’s sense of wonderment and joy of being in the world. From another loving grand parent. With love x

  • Ashen Venema
    October 1, 2016

    Lovely, a rare family inclusive snapshot of the selfie generation 🙂

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