I recognize the spark in her eyes
as she storms into my roombecause it's raining outside
and she needs a good paper boat fast
for a stream forming in the yard.
When I was four myself,
my father used to fold me boats.
I would sit beside him spellbound
watching them go,
making up stories about the places
we would see if we could sail them
down our flooded road.
(A workmate brought her 4-year-old to work yesterday and I gained one hour of origami folding, singing and making believe.)