For my nephew the satyr: Green

Horns, burst from a soft skull
always on time
Show it off kid, that keratin sheath
Let them spiral and jut
Call them gangly, call them twisted
Name them with care
For any summer child, growth is unkempt
and wildly slow
Puberty is less poetic than it sounds
and yet,
Horns bloom along the jaw, crawl like ivy
from the ears
Thumb a mandible, open, see confidence
calcify
Speak up kid, sound the shofar, play in
the water's lilies
You are no bigger than a lemon leaf,
sour face, smile wide!
Your parents know best. Bones will break,
cast together, make for tall tales
Believe me when I tell you, freedom is
a garden you tend
Little apprentice be brave, start early,
eat it ripe
Adorn a mossy crown, affix it to your horns
Pothos start from the scalp
Be a beginner, darling. Lichen takes
a lifetime to grow