When I have a daughter,
she will grow tall as
a willow tree.
I will wait
with baited breath
as she comes rushing through the door,
stumbling into my arms, moaning he is not the one,
the sobs taking hours to subside
because at sixteen,
he is everything.
When I have a daughter,
she will sprout like summer weeds,
too fast for me to hold her.
I will pull her hand in mine,
nervous that the wind
will blow away her beauty,
the innocence and sunshine
lighting up her eyes.
When I have a daughter
I will hug her bones to mine
because there is no love like this. There is no song as sweet
as her head resting on my shoulder
at eleven o’clock at night.
We are sitting, eating cookies,
watching a careful ray of sunshine
sprouting on the hillside.
When I have a daughter,
I press a note into her palms
as she waves a long goodbye.
Red brick buildings stand behind her, and
this distance seems unbearable,
this 14 hour drive.
I spread a grin across my face. I am acting for the moment,
watching, as she turns
into a dot
through the grey doorway.
When I have a daughter,
I will spot her across the airport,
her face tanned with womanhood, her hair pulled into a bun.
I cannot help but run towards her, hurtling my arms around her,
because she is as real as I pictured, I am choking on my tears.
Three words spring to my mind:
pride, and love,
and union.