Pickaya Me, Pickaya Me

Madi,
soft dark eyes,
oval in shape,
dark deep eyebrows
in a perfect shape.
Small and excited as
i enter the door.
You are small and standing on the
floor.
Pickaya me, pickaya me
not with the inside voice.

The people down the street can
hear you, jumping up and down,
yelling to the top of your lungs
while you stand on the ground.
Pickaya me, Pickaya me.
Grandma
reaching up at me.

You are no flower,
radiant in bloom.
You are madi
standing in a room.
talking, yelling ,
Pickaya me, Grandmother
Pickaya, me....
© 2011 Stefanie Stevens