i took my daughter when
she was two years old
to the old newspaper
in damariscotta where
i worked
when it was just her,
and i was twenty five
and wore a mustache
and was a terrible journalist.
she was make-believe
back then, a minor character
in a story i worked on
in my head.
i didn't know anything,
more so than today, but
not by much, and she
had beautifully pudgy...
