My Daughter - a poem

Lindsay

I feel the weight of her head on the hollow of my neck.
I close my eyes and try and imprint that heaviness into my mind
- the shape,
   - the feel,
      - the smell of my daughter
so fully grown
and yet
so much my baby girl

I run my hand through her hair and wonder at her beauty,
her amazing self that is so much
more
than her physical self

I want to brand my mind and my heart with this physical closeness
the touch of her hand,
     the sweep of her lashes,
          the gurgle of her giggle.

I never want to forget this weight, this presence, this touch.

I want to hold her
            to love her
            to laugh at her wit
            to guide her exuberance
            to salve her wounds

And yet I must let her go
to spread her self to places
far
beyond me

Others will know her
but I will always know the weight of her
from a few cells
to this
emerging yet not yet complete
woman
whose head rests on the hollow of neck

forever
in my memory.

Written at the cabin in October 2011.