growth of a bud

[miss_dipstick]

you know that he has grown,
when he unconsciously prepares to hide
the very thin,
yet very visible, link
that had joined the energetic display
of whirring blades
to the worn old switchboard;
filled with dusty fingerprints.

you know that he has grown,
when he no longer persuades you
to allow him
to drill a hole
into that freshly painted piece of wall
for him to show off
that precious masterpiece
of childishly vibrant hanger he had painted.

that no more.

now,
he uses blu-tack
to adhere plain, wooden knobs
to the back of his bedroom door.
it is for him to hang his designer cloths.
no crayon-marked drawings;
nor fresh roses for you
no more;

that no more.