Little you

By Erica Jade

Holding onto summer

like I’m holding onto you.

Little you, for now,

wonderful you, forever.

Colourful memories

of our family

standing under the same tree each month

to capture us as we are,

in whatever chapter we find ourselves in.

Seven months, and we still can’t seem to catch a happy wake window -

not unless we throw you up to the sky.

Little thrill seeker,

wonderful you.



Like the yellow flowers that grow at the end of our drive,

resilient and tall,

or the bush that wraps around

from the garden bed to the side of our house -

green stems pushing through cracks of concrete.

I don’t think we watered them once.

We’ll do better next season.

I want to teach you how to take care of things,

appreciate what grows -

even the weeds

that sometimes look like flowers

and feed the wild rabbits

we always get so excited to see

on our lawn, or the one next to ours.

I want to teach you what’s important -

how to find joy,

and something to love in every season,

so saying goodbye to this one doesn’t feel so hard.

This one will be the hardest for me.

Maybe one day you’ll know -

little you, not little for long.

So long, so long,

little you, so long

wonderful you, forever.