Girl of Mine
When I first saw her
She was only a few hours old
Instinctively kicking her long legs
Howling
To escape
I knew then
She was
A fighter.
Attracted
To an old drawer
I found
Faded photos
Forgotten pieces
Of crumpled notepaper
Their energy
Taking me back
To a time when
Her hair was brownish gold
Round face
Took baths in a yellow tub
Cradled in the kitchen sink
And cried
When her mother
Worked on weekends.
Eyes closed
I remembered
When she was seven or eight
I would read to her
While she played
With her dolls
Occasionally stopping
To look up at me
With her big brown eyes
One night she asked
Daddy do I have any friends?
I told her she had many friends
Imaginary friends too
Like Ooh Poo Poo Doo
Who would always be with her
That’s a strange name Daddy, she said
Brushing the hair
From her eyes
I said
It’s not the name or how you say it
It’s the friend that counts.
One Spring day
She came back home
Tall
Well dressed
Confident
Her friends crowded the living room
As my wife and I left
I smiled
Remebering the words
It’s not the name or how you say it
It’s the friend that counts.
Words
My daughter
Kept in her heart.
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