signature

for my three-year-old granddaughter



Mr. Floop still feeds his lunch to parkland pets:

breadcrumbs to birds, peanuts to squirrels, sausage to dogs,

then eats the bread, nuts and wurst a kindly matron shares;

the llama goes on searching for her mama,

quizzes animals she meets to learn her ancestry

			

these books now hold their stories within,

quietly stacked since you’ve gone, your high spirits 

renamed yourself Willowfrost, me Turteler,

your whirlwind spent as you left my house

to sleep your way home; still on my shelf

one smiling dinosaur sticker 

with glittery green scales, red tongue,

and your gift of your first signature. . . 

		

turquoise marker bobbed as your hand worked

to master it at my kitchen table, dark eyelashes

down, turquoise ink on your lower lip – 

mile-high letters you wrote from right to left

spelled your palindrome name, Anna

© Adele Graf