Keepsake peace, flour and water

Keepsake peace, flour and water

by the front hall door it sat
years after they had all grown
the cardboard box gone floppy
where the creaky sun spied through
the plaster of paris flaky
the kindergarten crinkled cellophane
over the heavy acrylics of hands
toddler signatures
slow printed joy
the stretching crayon wiggly names
days waiting to expand
and if we had collected them all
the host of us parents
wanting only a life of happiness
for them then and who they become
if we took out the snotty glue
covered over the maps of countries
making boundaries of palm
and reaching stubby fingers
if we wrapped the fighter planes
the missiles wobbly weighed down
turned the ships to papier mâché
brushed our sticky way to the rims
where their lives converged
in thumbs and names and falling down
our donations passing willingness
every child these our own
held through the night terrors
each told there are no monsters here
we can push down the edges
just like this together, see