Hey I saw you come home, in your blue sundress. The one with the sunflower that creeps up the right side and blooms on your chest. I love seeing you come home, I can see the bus pull up to the driveway, you running down the dirt path that cuts through the grain and arrives at the front porch. By this time you're winded and you flop down on the swinging chair overlooking the fields. You take your ten year old eyes and scan the horizon as if in some fleeting moment, something will change. You brush your hair out of your face, adjust your little red head band and proceed to melt my heart with a smile that'd make anyone gather back all their lost hope, even if for a moment. I saw you come home, from the bedroom window that's just high enough to watch the world, but close enough to you where I can guide over you. Then you charge up the stairs and I'm filled with delight as you fling your bag into the corner and pick me up. I now rest beside you and your journal. You ramble on about some boy picking on you, some teacher commending you and how much you love the schools therapy dog Nancy. I am glad I was made to forever smile, because I honestly can't think of doing anything else when you are around. I will always protect you, guide you, and be your friend, companion and guardian. Through my button eyes I watch you, but with my stuffed heart, I love you. Thank you, Clara.
