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I read this poem thinking of my own inner abandoned, neglected child. But on a second reading I realized I was always so busy while bringing up my children that I missed so much of their 'lightness.' Fortunately I've grown wiser and, as a grandmother, cherish watching my grandson at play, discovering the world. Best words in the world, "Play with me, Yaya." (Yes, he calls me "yaya.")

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Jenine Bsharah Baines
Jenine Bsharah Baines

Written by Jenine Bsharah Baines

J…Jen…Jeni…Jenine... Proper names are poetry in the raw. (W.H. Auden) Poet, singer, seeker, hippie grandmother gleefully revealing herself

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