Growth Is Only Division in Every Cell

"They grow up fast, don't they?"
Seems to be the wisdom
Of parenting closest
To performing the role
That "Hot enough for you?"
Plays for weather lore.

No, they don't. We age fast,
Especially parents
Already absurdly
Old, as I am. I watch
You, and what I mark most
Is the way you divide

My attention in halves,
One half of which marvels
At you, daughter of mine,
Delicate miracle
Of youth like none before,
Translucently tender,

The other half of which
Is foolishly amazed
That you are a human,
Ornery and unique
Already, the latest
Instance in my long line

Of roommates since childhood,
Each with a persona
Unique and ornery,
Pitched to match my own
Problematic nature,
Prone to split attention

Between boyish delight
And churlish selfishness,
Patience and self-pity,
Me myself my own best
Argument. I didn't
Grow fast. But I love you.