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SWEET SIXTEEN

I can see why
If you wanted a poem now and then
The sixteenth birthday
Of a young woman
Would send you

Looking everywhere for some
Words to commemorate
The undiscussable
Blossom. Four or five times a week
Someone consults

The text I generate
Somewhere on the spectrum
Between cryptic and random
In the belief there might be
Some crystal form

Of the feeling
Of having cared for
Someone for what is after all
Four presidencies, and the acknowledgment
That while caring will continue

The independence that has
Been present the entire time
Is now undeniably in force.
That's gotta be bittersweet.
There ought to be poems about it.