Word Play

I went to meet Breanna

Who, walking home from school today,

knelt down to pick a flower

off a neighbor’s scented bay.

Then, she whistled to a tabby,

who’d scurried up a tree, then

bellowed at the sheepdog who

had stopped to take a pee…

When a butterfly crossed her path
then flitted up a tree
She found a pebble,
kicked a stick,
then caught a sight of me.

The butterfly, now safe from harm

was swept by wind away

But nothing chased that

inner warmth from me when

she turned to me to say,

“Hi, Mom, did you see me call

the kitten?  can you whistle just like me?

Can you be home everyday

to meet me by this tree?”

It doesn’t take much insight

from a little girl I know

to remind me of my rightful

place, my call to help her grow.