Saturday, January 15, 2011

Her Daddy

see that young girl
                                   wearing the white parka
waiting for the bus . . . ?                                                 
She is smiling and laughing,
                                                        her teeth flash bright
white, like her coat . . .                        
                            she is dancing around
her daddy. . .
her eyes shine                                           
like smooth black
                                                      pebbles in the stream;
and the rain is forced down                           
on us ..  .. 
                                            there on that street corner
                       everyone who passes by
smiles with an inner warmth. . .                                      
                                    not quite sure why they feel a glow and
puzzled by what  has moved them so . . .                    
                                     she is connected to her father by a white cord . . .
she holds the iPod while he listens                                       
to her music,
and she . . . dancing without the melody,
                                                   yet seeming to know where it guides her,
tenderly rubs her hands across his shoulders. . .                              
brushing the glowing raindrops
                                                     off his daddy-wings



CŒDES Pierre-Marie said...

Most moving Barb. Beautiful.

Wolfsong said...

Thank you, PM, I was very touched when I saw this little scene as I waited for the bus. I had to write the poem, left handed on a moving bus and could hardly read my scribblings when I got home . . .but genuine love is always special to witness . . .whenever and wherever . . .it spills out and grows to others too . . .