Written upon my father’s death in May, and the expectation of further loss by my daughter’s growing up and away from me.
Dead calm above the raging green of May,
And underneath: chaotic rhapsody.
The ghost of youth, who only wants to play,
Wails with the wind, and chastened, runs away.
Like dancing tails of kites held in the sky,
Pinned fast, but pulling, rolling, beckoning,
My daughter's charmed, distinct life sways with mine,
Then breaks away and surges with the wind.
My darling Laura, sleight and sheer and strong,
Whom I have sought above the clouds and kissed,
To move on with the wind would not be wrong,
But I will miss your lulling tenderness.
Compare my wild heart to a single kite,
Caught in its own distraught, tumultuous flight.
Dead calm above the raging green of May,
And underneath: chaotic rhapsody.
The ghost of youth, who only wants to play,
Wails with the wind, and chastened, runs away.
Like dancing tails of kites held in the sky,
Pinned fast, but pulling, rolling, beckoning,
My daughter's charmed, distinct life sways with mine,
Then breaks away and surges with the wind.
My darling Laura, sleight and sheer and strong,
Whom I have sought above the clouds and kissed,
To move on with the wind would not be wrong,
But I will miss your lulling tenderness.
Compare my wild heart to a single kite,
Caught in its own distraught, tumultuous flight.