A Little More Than Five
My dad liked me best
when I was five,
and I used to ask him how he got so tall,
how he knew so much
about how to throw a baseball,
and how to dance with me on his feet,
clinging joyfully to the backs of his knees.
I know I haven't grown since then
but I can look him in the eye now,
and our hands are identical.
He asks me how I got so tall
even though I know
I haven't grown since then.
Copyright © Kathleen Small | Year Posted 2005
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