The Eyes of a Child

I’m going to offer my first poem on this blog today. We’ll see how it goes. I’m no really sure if I have the rights to this poem anymore. I wrote it for my nephew’s daughter years ago and gave it to her. If you give a poem to someone is it still yours?

I don’t know. But she doesn’t read my blog anyway so she’ll never know! As far as I know I only have one family member who follows my posts and that’s my oldest sister. As I've said before, I always knew she was the only one with good taste in the family! (Edit... I since found out there is a second family reader, but since she eats ants from cans I'm not sure I can include her as equally good taste 🤪).

Anyway, I’m sure Emily won’t care if I share her poem. It casts her in a favorable light, I think.

This took place about a dozen years ago. I was staying with my middle sister and her family at a camp they rented in Rangely, Maine. I woke up and wanted to go for a jog (I could actually do that back then). Emily, maybe 10 at the time, asked to join me. Well, I really wanted to go alone as I knew her 10 year old legs likely would not keep my rhythm during the jaunt. But, not wanting to hurt her feelings, I acquiesced.

After we finished the 45 minutes or so on the trails, I was quite ashamed of my selfishness for not wanting to share this part of my morning with her. Her delightful company turned out to be the highlite of my day. So I wrote this later in dedication of the moment. These are original photos I took during our walk (sorry, the porcupine shot is very blurry):

The Eyes that Truly See

A Picture Poem by Kirk

We walked along the lorn path one early part of day,  

Everything was quite familiar, though I’d never passed this way. 

The conifers stood tall and firm against the louring sky,

The cove loons both swam plumbly, in the lake that we passed by.

We chanced upon a hedgehog as he scoured for his food,

But a dalliance with us was clearly not his mood.

He cantered up the hemlock, with all enchanted haste,

We knew that to pursue, would surely be a waste.

The damsel asked a question, to which I had no reply,

This immediately led to another, and another question why.

Where do the ducks go when the winter winds approach?

Why do people hunt them, why do some men poach?

Why can’t we go to heaven, even while we’re still alive?

How many tiny bees can fit into a decent size beehive?

Why is the grass that lies here brown, but over there it’s green?

Why does my 5th grade teacher treat all her kids so mean?

My thoughts were suddenly different, not as started this excursion,

I now saw things quite differently; A world in different version.

Although the change was subtle, revelations at times are mild,

Today I saw a brighter world, through the eyes of this small child.

So, what did you expect, Robert Burns?