When she was three days a newborn, she wrapped her little hand around mine.
Hi, I said. She smiled for the first time, a commonplace
miracle.
I sang to her until she sang in her beautiful voice.
I brought her dolls to life and made her laugh.
She drew me pictures that took me back in time to my dreams.
On Paint Box, I taught her fractions when she was five.
A prodigy’s mind is easy to wire for higher education.
I pointed out the moon and the stars to explain her origin
of her creative spirit.
Up in the mountains of The Live Free Or Die State where we
could see constellations, I warned her I would fly her to the top of the
tallest tree and leave her if she misbehaves.
She held on tight and promised to be good. She believed I
could fly?
Wow.
She made a snow angel as the sun fell in afternoon shades of
gold under sea of blue sky.
You can make one too if you try, she urged like the pushy
little girl I knew her to be.
It broke her heart when I suddenly disappeared. She went
looking for me
This is your destination, my joyful child of light: Earth’s
future
We’ll see one another in a thousand years to bring love
home.
For now, humans make movie.
Everybody happy.
Jane! Stop This Crazy Media Thing by Danny Aponte of Public
School 161
An essay on Freedom of Speech to sing songs like a canary in
a coalmine
Copyrighted in The South Bronx of Graffiti from Here To
Eternity
LLAP
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