that day

    She arrives

    loosey goosey

    through the door

    light on her toes

    despite our

    few days of

    separation,

    for years the

    weekly ritual.

    Our eyes meet
    grey to grey and
    her skin color mine,
    though reaching down
    to kiss her forehead
    seemed easier that day.

    Hands could always effortlessly wrap around
    my fingertips meeting at her sometimes ponytail,
    or mingling among those tangled golden curls.

    And when did her head snug in at my chest when we hugged?
    Like the kitchen door frame penciled ever higher in our old house,
    maybe our bodies will mark those imperceptable passages now?
    Time it seems to move so slowly until that day, when it doesn’t.
    .


    .
    my first poem
    written 2012,
    revised April 2013
    submitted to 20 Lines A Day
    prose and poetry challenge for April
    http://anexerciseindiscipline.com/2013/04/12/that-day/

That Day

for my daughter

She arrives looseygoosey through the door light on her toes
despite a few days of separation, for years our weekly ritual.
Our eyes meet grey to grey and her skin color mine, though
reaching down to kiss her forehead seemed easier that day.

Hands could always effortlessly wrap around
my fingertips meeting at her sometimes ponytail,
or mingling among those tangled golden curls.

And when did her head snug in at my chest when we hugged?
Like the kitchen door frame penciled ever higher in our old house,
maybe our bodies will mark those imperceptable passages now?
Time. It seems to move so slowly until that day, when it doesn’t.

My first poem
written April 2012
revised Aarch 2013

submitted to 20 Lines A Day
prose and poetry challenge for April
http://anexerciseindiscipline.com/2013/04/12/that-day/