The middle of my second three,


Daughter Two the mystery I’m both closest to and farthest


From, my child most unlike me.


What can I say but that she lives a life


I could never but would like to know,


My willowy rose-topped window into


The ways and wiles of girls


Becoming female naturally.


This is my Maddy,


My oh-so-social maker of friends


With whom she leaves innocence slowly,


Caregiver to all creatures great and small,


With whom she shares intimacies lost on me.


A girl girl, she has shopper’s gene not from me,


Has a well-developed buyer’s mind that knows


Just what’s right for her and what she is


And knows how she will get it,


One way or another.


She’s a student of gizmos,


A maker of lists to order


All things trivial and wonderful,


Puts all small things in order,


In a world crafted to her strong sense of style.


Why should it not be mine?


Borrowed so I can be with her,


My little window into the ways and wiles


Of little girls becoming women naturally.