She peeks,
Bright and unreliable
She coquettes, pirouettes,
As yet untouchable.
Yesterday, late,
She turned a twinkling eye
Over her shoulder,
Fingers still extended
To her father.
Today she faces us,
Her smile almost unbearable
To starving eyes.
And despite ourselves,
We wag cautious tails
Among shivering pink
And thin green decorations,
Hope that hand she raises now
Is beckoning.
Appetite no longer dulled
Amid anticipation's bones,
We feel a warmth stir
That we'd long supressed,
Pretending stoicism,
Looking forward to the rest.
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