Author: Daydreamer
Written circa 1992
Posted: February 15, 2004


Daughter

Shirttail hanging out
One braid loose upon her shoulder
Grinning at me with braces gleaming,
She lisps, "Good morning," then
Drops her books,
Stumbles over her feet,
and sits.

Cereal bowl and homework
She writes three words
and crosses out two.
Tugs at her sock
until a hole ravels at the top.

And when the bus arrives,
she plunges through the door,
scattering a trail of fluttering papers
for me to pick up.

Leaving me to think about
the woman emerging in her.


End