The thing I can't give you

You don’t get a brother or sister.

Sorry, but I have cursed and begged enough to tell you

It’s only going to be you.

But you can make lively conversation with the geese at the lake.

They could go on and on for days and you could come running to me

to tell me they will simply not leave you alone.

You can tell secrets to the deer who rattle around this town
like the kids who have cars that drive slow and cool.

But they might not keep them, your secrets.

I’ve seen them gossiping with the squirrels when they

think no one is watching.

You can cry to the trees, who, though they cannot hug you

make the most fantastic listeners.

And the cats, those crazy cats, don’t let them boss you around

or cut your hair or give you lollipops behind my back.

Oh my beautiful child I want to give you the world.

But the world is not mine to give.
It's yours to take.