by Charlie Steak

Tiny girl under the palm leaves
distracted by a butterfly
leaves Anne face down in the Green Gables grass.
High-pitched parrots squawk-whistle-chatter
and a golden beetle solemnly investigates
the fairies’ wading pool in a giant leaf.
Enid Blyton in the nursery, tea on the lawn,
Cadbury’s chocolate drop by drop.
Evening brings the moon,
light lace through the trees
and tall windows. “Now girls,
you must stop giggling and go to sleep.”

Monsoons come. Monsoons go.

A new tiny girl pulls all the cushions off the sofa,
eats grapes inside her fort,
drawing rainbow after rainbow,
telling plastic baby Jack-Jack
an important story about a butterfly
on a rose which turns into a silver scooter.
Mother on her knees looks in.
Tiny girl is scandalized by the intrusion,
but gives a relenting magic kiss
to send Mother back to her cappuccino.
Somewhere a golden beetle emerges
and gives a friendly antennae wave.

We let the rain cry all our tears for us.