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Gaining Time

A poem.

My daughter is the careless edge  

Of smile I wear, a facial shrug that lays aside

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The done and not.  

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She is the now of just  

A minute, the stamping foot of childhood  

That demands the ever present.  

Her gift to me is simple:  

She can dimple time, the way  

Other children press a chocolate's center  

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To guess its flavor,  

Laughing so hard that time capitulates.  

There's a momentary crumple, it bends,  

Rebounds, and I've gained  

A second on the world.