“My childhood is nearly over”, she said to me, sensing the shifting sands.
Caught in these in-between times, she dips a toe in two lands;
testing the waters of the fresh foreign future,
paddling in the pool of the playful past.
Soon, my daughter hits double digits.
The turning away is in motion – this turning into herself.
Heart breaking in instalments,
time left is time less.
I ought to be a bit better at all this by now;
I ought to have taught her the art of being a woman
(as if I’d know how).
She breathed life into me,
this woman who half lived.
Took me to unimaginable places –
Now, she is all limbs and no cares;
I long for her to stay sure.