Lips and curves and hair and eyes,
My daughters’ school has (d) it all.
Eyes and hair and curves and lips,
My daughters have those, too.

One or two reeds recurve into the wind,
Swirl and mind and spool into Now.
But, not responsibility, it-ability is living.
Twit, flit, motion, past, present and future.

It’s just a night, like every other night,
But, different. A graduation and a promotion.
Anxious ($’s) add to relative years of past $’s.
Our daughters have these problems, too.

Lips pout and control eyes and hair, and legs,
Differently, daughters are lost in time, into nerves.
Curves speak and flair invites lust, love and loss.
My daughters have minds, too often unseen.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 6/2/09