Home from War

I never felt

more like my fifteen-month-old daughter

than when I watched her learn that

sidewalk chalk can show up

on more than just the

2-by-6 square of pavement in front

of our apartment.

I never felt more like her

when we wandered over to the

over-exposed boulders that sit at the opening of the parking lot

where I wrote our names and she scribbled and

the next day a neighbor boy coloring

over our names, our scribbles.

I smiled and felt like her and told her

whether she knew it or not

that we’d grab buckets of water and wait till he left.

And instead she walked over to closet

and grabbed two more stalks of chalk.