(People tell me how I was a Daddy's girl but, even though I have lovely pictures, I hardly remember as he left us when I was 6.)
The way thoughts are left unfinished or
never made it to the tip of his tongue,
she didn't think of it as broken, merely gone-
the way long Summers pass too slowly until school starts again.
how he bit his lip when flowers happened; the blooming had
in the underground of Spring.