A Poem To My Niece, Almost Three Years Old Poem by Aaron Rudolph

(published in _Sacred Things_, Bridge Burner's Press,2002)


Every things she wants she sees
in the dark coin of this child's eyes.
—Valerie Martinez, "Traveler"

You count in Spanish
uno, dos, tres
just as my sister taught you.

You perform on cue
acting as jester, arms whipping
around like confused snakes
when your mother demands it.

You laugh and your eyes
glaze solid like pebbles.

In your eyes I see my years
at Mora Avenue Elementary
where I was picked last for dodge ball,

where I kicked a ball into someone's yard
and spent three days after school
because I climbed the fence

to retrieve it. I etched
doodles in my Big Chief notebook,
wrote an acceptance speech
for when I was elected President.

Your eyes also hold
the picture of a girl,
Elena, Elena, Elena.

I think, "Muy bonita, " the same words
your mother says at night
as she stands above you,

the sandman with your mother's face,
spreading a kiss like sleeping dust
across your forehead.