FWD: photograph from the birthday

Sweet menagerie, remember? Taupe recliner

met butterball bairn and rosy cheek >>> LOOK

 

She’s still nursing. The thread fades. But I see

her silver gossamer and grey fibres frayed

 

One hundred times more baby than a chubby

toddler. Born there orbital, in the chenille settee

 

Scraped in hair spray across the dog-ear tiles

for scattered walnuts and birthday frosting.

 

Unspeckled by a decade of rain the graceful

coryphée has the spoons to shove a slice

 

In her mouth and hum. A drunk ceiling eye roll

forgets maroon aprons that pull at her strings;

 

Ossein army of elasticated waists; the nautilus

of petalled skin and violet fleece cut pile first

 

Floating heavenward in ultra-vibrant stripes

then breaking down for dust mites to feed

 

The residents. And I thrusting the baby forward

caught the gesture for life: Pearly hollow tines

 

Slick with cream-cheese cartilage, panel heater

bunting, starched doilies to mark a century of

 

Sandy tots and daffodil postcards at sea

in the springs of her well seasoned arm chair.