Daughter | A Poem

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I wrote this a few years back, at a time when I was never far from the fear of losing her.

Looking into her eyes

is to look into the Skerries sea,

on a silver morning.

*

The lacing of winter branches

reminds me of

the fall of her dark curls.

*

The touch of her kiss

is wine to me,

her tiny embrace

more precious than air.

*

When she’s gone,

I’ll not place her, alone,

in the cold dark earth.

*

I’ll offer her to the sky and the sun,

set her free to roam,

as she never could before.

*

And then, when the wind blows,

I’ll always feel her,

close all around me, like a hug,

*

hear her breathing

in the sigh of the breeze.

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