Wrapped in wrapping
She sits in the room’s middle
The royal court of the living room
Pumped out of every face is the warm glow of
Glad to be here for this
I’m glad to be here for this
Mother points me around the room
And each family member
Says a nice thing
Shredded crimson and emerald
And hot pink and ribbon
And a big banner and even bigger party hats
Which she will jokingly grow into
It’s hard to think that a single year of life
Could mean this much to you –
For seven of mine I’ve waited to show you this again
Small hands that don’t understand presents
But do understand the dog
Fumble with newness
And even in the crying nobody leaves
They are all glad to be here for this
What is different to each of them
Is the same for her
Like the pieces of wrapping
Hiding forever under the most disposable furniture
This recording also remains
A burgled and sold fragment of time.
