SUBJECT>Missing My Daughter's Doctor Visit POSTER>Si mon EMAIL> DATE>1112906184 IP_ADDRESS>199.184.88.166 PREVIOUS> NEXT> 85914 85927 85936 85938 85944 85945 85973 85991 IMAGE> LINKNAME> LINKURL>

I wasn’t there to hear the doctor explain
the coming of buds, the triangulation
of expected growth. Spring. I’m in another season,

losing my senses. Maybe that’s why I cling.
For now you don’t mind. Someday you’ll slam
the front door and shout words I won’t hear.
I don’t need to, they’re familiar, the way
summer rocks that cut my feet are, the same rocks
I once tossed into water, carried in pockets,
and will finally carry across the water.