A New Fixed Place by Nancy Schatz Alton
I still see you in your broad striped onesie, blue & minty green
watch you roll across the wood floor:
you propel yourself where you want to go.
I read that I was your fixed place.
Slowly, I am no-longer-your-fixed place.
You are becoming your own fixed place.
You wear striped shirts covered by sweatshirts,
your toothbrush in a to-go bag,
your car fueled up and ready to ride.
You clean your room, wash your clothes weekly
& propel yourself forward mostly out of my eyesight
then you stop & rest, pushing yourself against me on our couch.
I swear you’re just gaining traction:
a better way to propel yourself forward:
you gather my stationary energy & fly away at an even faster pace.