Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter



When you wake

You will be a teenager,
Somewhere between a child
And an adult.
For you, and for me.

A strange thing, growing up.

We think we know who we are,
And forget it just as quickly.
Certainty collapses
From one second to another.
Uncertainty fades with
The blink of an eye,
Usually someone else’s.

It took two hours and ten minutes

For you to be born,
In the middle of a snow storm,
In the middle of the night,
When death stood by my side
Until you chased him away,
A dozen and one years ago,
The last of my children,
The final marker of my age.

All these precious moments you make.



For Alex, on her 13th birthday.

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