Her eyes are a purplish blue
And she has one little dimple
In the middle of her chin
Her chubby little fingers are laced in mine
She looks up at me expectantly
Her smile revealing no more than eight teeth
I sit on the floor with my legs crossed
Plopping down in my lap, she has a book
The same book we've read ten times.
Today
I didn't know her when she first learned to crawl
I didn't see her first tooth
I didn't hear her first laugh
And I didn't see her first smile
But I did see her learn to walk
I saw her learn how to use a spoon
I saw her throw a tantrum when I told her "no"
And then come to me wanting a hug right after
Though she may not be my daughter
She made me feel important and wanted
And while I cry as she is driven away
I will smile through my tears and remember the times I held her
And she wanted me to.