MY DAUGHTER AND I.

Less sense than a dog
Whilst crossing the road,
Or a turtle in the soup
With an upturned shell,
Or equations on a board
That have no recourse,
Or a child with its mouth never closed.

Less known than a fog
In a black blindfold,
Or a stranger in a group
In a small motel,
Or the information stored
In a Trojan horse,
Or a child with a head full of snow.

Less aware than a log
When it’s part of a load,
Or the fire on a hoop
That a jump expels,
Or the one ignored
By the last resource,
Or a child and the seeds that it sows.

Less correct than a cog
When its upgrade is sold,
Or a journalist’s scoop
When they kiss and tell,
Or a witnesses’ reward
When a villain’s sought,
Or a grown up who didn’t quite grow.