Four Aprils old
His heart knows
Only joy
Proud and brave
He stands up straight
In uniform
My girl intent
Upon his lunchbox
Putting in
Taking out
Balancing . . .
Her eyelids not quite dry
I look at her
She looks at him
He waves at me
We spin in a ring of love
And recognise the day
Child of my child, I
scoop you up and hug you, breathe
you in and keep you.
Four Aprils old
His heart knows
Only joy
Proud and brave
He stands up straight
In uniform
My girl intent
Upon his lunchbox
Putting in
Taking out
Balancing . . .
Her eyelids not quite dry
I look at her
She looks at him
He waves at me
We spin in a ring of love
And recognise the day
Of separation
The music filled the room
We pushed the table back
Stacked the chairs and
Formed a ring to watch
My daughter dance
Spangled eyes alight
With joy of movement
She whirled, birled
Arms and legs abandoned
And while she whirled she changed
Grew, evolved, emerged
A stranger unconnected
All her own self, on her own
Future firing headlong
Detached from my detaining hands
The beat drummed louder
Finished and the stranger sank
Triumphant, flushed and
Laughing, enjoying our applause
Turned to me for confirmation
My girl again
But never quite the same.
embookstuff 