daughter poem

since, if you stood by my side today
as evening falls
she limps with halting painful pace
though i am little as all little things
backward, turn backward
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
sleep, gray brother of death
uplifting, as the wind blew
my mother taught me that every night
desolate and lone
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
with her hair flaying wildly