My Daughter

I am blown away by harsh winds

 

Melanie, it seems to me, you to be storm clouds

in the distant sky, drifting in and out, passing by

in shades of ever deepening, darker, menacing grays.

You seem to be hidden among shadows, lost in shrouds.

 

Never a word, an acknowledgement, not even a simple hi

when you come home, hide, then go – gone for days.

you drift through, in different shapes, much like clouds,

one minute this, next minute that, or some other, in my eye.

 

Who or what you will be, where you are at, I never know.

One minute a unicorn, the next, some kind of dragon.

We might live in a castle in the sky, then it’s a gloomy donjon,

or a sailing ship on the horizon, then grounded, you show

 

me - no adventures to be experienced, no journeys to take –

that I am surrounded by bells, of deaths toll being sounded

as I try my best to understand, try to be a good man

that in the end, all I think I know, I must forsake

 B. J. “A” 2

October 2^nd 2004