Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Saturday, July 11, 2009

#171 For my daughter . . .

I sink into your eyes, shift and sink,
child of mine now grown,
an indulgence to remember
you were once small.
I remember your first days.
I rocked you in my arms and sang
and dreamed of this,
two women walking in a Japanese garden,
two women sitting in a coffee house,
but one is saying hello,
the other saying goodbye.