Poem: Dear Truman

Dear Truman,

I’ve known you from the womb.
Seen you open your eyes
for the first time
and give your first step,

and I’m not the only one –
scores of people have.
I know the baseball cap
you always like to wear,

that your favorite colors
are indigo and red.
I’ve seen your first selfie,
with kindergarten friends.

Dear Truman,

I’ve seen the girls you date
and know the type
you’ll end up marrying.
Seen all your prom shots,

all soon to be memories.
I’ve gone back in time
to your first grade drawings –
time does seem to fly.

Dear Truman,

I’ve seen your honeymoon highs,
then noticed deleted shots –
no trace of your bride anymore.
Seen the nights of partying

after your second divorce,
the trips to risky spots,
the best pasta you’ve had,
rolls of toilet paper

you picked up at the store,
and your knee operation –
how did that go?
I don’t even need to ask,

I already know.
Seen all your drinking buddies
and all your selfies with
the third Mrs. Truman, too.

Dear Truman,

I’ve known her from the womb.
Seen her open her eyes
for the first time
and give her first step,

and I’m not the only one –
scores of people have.
I know the Barbie dress
you gave her to wear,

that her favorite colors
are purple and red.
I can see her kids, too…
with kindergarten friends.

– Ana Beatriz Ribeiro, 2/6/2016

A Global Studies doctoral degree holder and former newspaper reporter, avid eater, pseudo-philosopher and poet, occasion-propelled singer, semi-professional socializer, movie addict, Brazilian-American nomad. In this space, she will share some of her experiences and (mis)adventures regarding various topics, with special attention to social issues.

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