last night i had a class, and at the teacher's house where we gathered, his daughter was dancing in and out of the room. as she smiled or laughed as she went by, i thought of this poem:
i think about the seemingly
effeminate nature of flowers;
and drop the mantel of an
ethereal past, to envision
the daughter i wish i had.
today, i sat near a child
no more than three,
who laughed, simply
to test the sound of
her own voice. and i?
i nearly cried.
(dedicated to alicia)
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