Child Poem by James McLain

Cut
the cord.
Beautiful eyes unlike mine.
Big round and brown.

Like the sky mine are grey.
Hurry child,
you mustn't tarry that way.

He lent them to me.
I gave them back.
Just in a colorful way.

Look at the sky at the stars.
What it is that you see,
I see them not.

The cut that I have,
your father can see.
Mothers can not, be afraid.

See my face in the pool?
Looking down at it, you look up.
Your father is staring at me.