She’s a tangle of laughter and questions
and half damp towels never quite in the hamper.
A spray of paper scraps upon the carpet-
discarded like confetti from an art project.
“One more game of Five Crowns...”
A prayer for the bird stunned hitting our window.
A Harry Potter movie weekend.
Or a well-loved copy of “The Hunger Games” splayed beside her as she sleeps.
A bad attempt at puns.
A constellation of freckles.

Some days she pushes back as much as she reaches out.
I’m grateful for these tests of will.
Misplaced, perhaps, but vital.
A test of cautious wings.
A measurement of resistance and resilience.
Instinct alive to the coming storm.
A primal awareness of the demands of time.

All practice for a world less wonderful.
A world less worthy.
A world less wise.
But wonderful still.
And better for her presence in it.
True of the world and my life too.

Thinking of the girls and women of Iran...