World Book Day
She knows exactly who she’s going to be,
off on adventures through a winter wardrobe,
hoping for tea with a faun, and lion flight,
through turning springtime skies.
I dress her in a green beret and mock gabardine,
velcro on a label, hand the small bag she carries,
with dolls house secrets to make her point clear;
only I really know what it is meant to be.
I kiss her goodbye and imagine what it was like,
to put your child on a train, waving a white handkerchief
with the spirit of experience; inside, only weeping,
and praying for her to come home, be safe.