A POEM FOR SUKI AT 2.19 YEARS OLD

I filled in digits to be told,

you’re two point one eight nine years old.

In slightly other different ways,

it’s been eight hundred lovely days.

You still call Luna, you, you do.

I guess it’s strange that there is two

of almost you in every way.

There hasn’t been a single day,

you haven’t been alone to play,

you haven’t had the final say.

Perhaps it’s great that there is two,

of practically almost you.

Every single waking day,

you have a friend to always play;

your twin Luna that you say,

is called Suki, yay hooray!

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