Granddaughter drawing, sitting here with me at Wendy's,
wonder and curiosity being spelled out in everything
she draws freehand.
One she's just given made me think of a roadway or path-
way through the mind, not having told her until writing
it in this little poem that I'd like to use her drawing
in one of my books along with this poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a sweet story that speaks for itself. But it makes me realize that the time which is the poet's enemy is also the time which brings new life into the world and nurtures their growth. And in those children who appear new to life's stage as we prepare to leave it, those children are times's gift to us.