Dancing in Coffee Shops

A poem about my little daughter and the magic of childhood

She dances with abandon in coffee shops,
Three-year-old impulsivity,
Wanting to touch everything, discover.
She wears tiaras in public,
Tells people to call her "princess"
And expects purple lollipops for
sitting quietly at the bank.
No shred of of self-consciousness
To hold back hellos to strangers
And smiles for every random dog, kitty, squirrel.
Even when sometimes creating crayon masterpieces
on the clean white walls
(who could blame her - such an inviting canvas)
or pouring-spilling milk into tiny plastic teacups meant for
pretend,
Even when stomping and exclaiming that no,
No it's not nap time yet,
It's only almost nap time.
Even then,
She is still my sweet baby girl
(even if she says she's not a baby anymore)
and maybe we all could - maybe we all should
try to learn a little something about life
from the vantage point of a very young child.