When I was 18 months old I started talking,
(That's reeeeaallly late)
I started talking in complete sentences!
Not mama, or dada.
I did not talk much when I was little.
I don't talk now, unless I have to.
I ponder.
I think.
I wonder.
I form complete thoughts.
Sometimes, it is not important.
And when it is,
I say what I need to.
It's not always in the moment...
It's not always in the day...
Maybe, it's not even in the month.
Or 18 months...
1 comment:
I love it! So concise, yet powerful.
There is is a contrast between the opening voice and the end voice, though that makes the first few lines (or maybe just the parenthetical part) more humorous despite the seriousness of needing to ponder one's thoughts before speaking. I only say that because the ending is so meaningful and because you use so few words to really hit it home.
I also love your framing technique with the 18 months. Truly brings your poem full circle and shows the power of waiting to speak :)
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