and some other father at the club <br />says, has she flown the nest yet? <br />and it sounds so crude <br />you don’t want to answer. <br /> <br />You’re sitting on the sofa, <br />she’s behind you at the table, <br />she’s silent, you can feel her <br />growing up inside. You know <br />you mustn’t turn and look at her – <br />she’ll hate you for looking her dream <br />in the face. <br /> <br />Two years ago, she’d have come to sit <br />beside you on the sofa, <br />say nothing, put her head <br />on your shoulder. <br /> <br />Now, she’s in that between place, that place between. <br />In the between, she lives all the opposites. Simultaneously. <br />The world’s never been so exciting, all-possible, <br />or so scary, void; and these together; <br />she’s never felt so strong, or so vulnerable; both; <br />she knows she will be somebody; feels like nobody; <br />she’d like to have every boy, throw them away <br />to prove her power; yet wait to find if <br />there’s just the one; she wants both of these <br />(she, girl to goddess, Princess now a Queen, <br />she owns all men, yet gives herself to one) . <br /> <br />She’s living simultaneously in dreams <br />and chill realities. <br />You know all this, <br />and cannot, must not interfere. <br /> <br />This morning, you felt like the ideal family, <br />held in a golden glow of understanding. <br />Tonight, she’ll dress up for the boy and the dance, gloriously, <br />and you’ll be torn between fatherly pride <br />and the feeling that you’ve never, ever known her; <br />share that terrible place between <br />where there are only opposites.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/daughter-9/
