21
Nov
08

untitled 11/20/08

Each night

I sit

With her

Cross-legged on the floor

And dry her

Hair

As I brush out

The curls

In her long

Blond hair.

We eat

Dinner

And then

She showers and sings as she plays with her mermaid toys

While I

Smile

Or even cry

As I listen

To those sweet notes

Coming from the bathroom

And her

Tiny lungs.

There will come a day

When

She will

No longer

Be

Willing to sit

With her

Father

And let me

Brush her hair

While she hums

A tune

Only she has heard

As the dryer drones

And whines.

Some day

I will have to let go just enough to let her do her own thing and find her own place in the world outside of my arm’s reach.

But not tonight.

Not tonight.

Timothy Vance Jackson

11/20/2008

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