A Little Tooth by Thomas Lux [and The Writer’s Almanac]

I like this short, simple poem:

A Little Tooth

by Thomas Lux

Your baby grows a tooth, then two,
and four, and five, then she wants some meat
directly from the bone. It’s all

over: she’ll learn some words, she’ll fall
in love with cretins, dolts, a sweet
talker on his way to jail. And you,

your wife, get old, flyblown, and rue
nothing. You did, you loved, your feet
are sore. It’s dusk. Your daughter’s tall.

“A Little Tooth” by Thomas Lux from The Drowned River. © Houghton Mifflin, 1997.

This is up today at The Writer’s Almanac site, here. If you sign up to its email newsletter, you’ll get a poem emailed to you each day. Hosted by Garrison Keillor, who reads each poem posted as well as the daily literary news, and it is an effortless parcel of daily joy to receive every day. If you don’t like the poem of that day, wait for the next one.

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