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.