Daughter Ache
I Watch
As my daughter of seventeen
Preens in front of the bathroom mirror
Perfumes and lip glosses
Scattered across the counter
Contact lenses spooning
On her azure eyes
She is an opening flower
Still dewy with the new day of her life
She prepares herself like a sacrifice
Lacquering her lashes
Fitting silver droplets to her ears
Pale curls frustrate her most valiant
Efforts at containment
And erupt over her shoulders
She concentrates, lower lip thrust out
And the ghost of her three-year-old self
Escapes from my heart
And how can I let her go out
Into a hard, jagged world
Already riddled with casualties
When she is as vulnerable as a reed?
Yet, I cannot take this opening bud
And press it under glass
Or stick it in a dried arrangement
On my coffee table
Preserved and safe
And dead
I Watch
As my daughter of seventeen
Preens in front of the bathroom mirror
Perfumes and lip glosses
Scattered across the counter
Contact lenses spooning
On her azure eyes
She is an opening flower
Still dewy with the new day of her life
She prepares herself like a sacrifice
Lacquering her lashes
Fitting silver droplets to her ears
Pale curls frustrate her most valiant
Efforts at containment
And erupt over her shoulders
She concentrates, lower lip thrust out
And the ghost of her three-year-old self
Escapes from my heart
And how can I let her go out
Into a hard, jagged world
Already riddled with casualties
When she is as vulnerable as a reed?
Yet, I cannot take this opening bud
And press it under glass
Or stick it in a dried arrangement
On my coffee table
Preserved and safe
And dead
I wrote this for and about my daughter Kate when she graduated from high school. She is an accomplished pianiast, so this week's Magpie prompt made me think of her.
Wonderful poem, Mary, beautifully said and I totally feel your words having a 13yr old daughter myself. Loved the last lines:
ReplyDeleteYet, I cannot take this opening bud
And press it under glass
Or stick it in a dried arrangement
On my coffee table
Preserved and safe
And dead
- Perfect
"And the ghost of her three-year-old self
ReplyDeleteEscapes from my heart" - just breathtaking!
What a wonderful tribute to your daughter. I'm sure she's every bit the wonderful woman that her Momma showed her how to be.
Particularly like the line "preparing herself for sacrifice."
ReplyDeleteAnd your observance of her ritual is very spot on. Great imagery.
Magpie Magic is what I consider Willow's photo prompts to be .... triggering memories of special times, places and precious daughters. this is lovely .........
ReplyDeleteBrigid - I did consider doing that! Thanks so much.
ReplyDeleteEric - Thank you, that's so kind.
Jacyui - thanks, the word 'ritual' is exatly right.
Helen - Thank you, and you're right. We all have a lot to thank Willow for.
Ah, the parents dilemma. Captured perfectly.
ReplyDeleteYes - and thank you.
ReplyDeletePure enjoyment. I know exactly how you feel. If I wrote a favorite line or two that I love from above, I'm afraid I'd rewrite the whole poem!
ReplyDeleteHaving a daughter, your poem went straight to my heart bringing back memories and thoughts of when she was a teenager.
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you for that marvelous Lily Tomlin quote. She says it like it is!
Well, both thank you and you're welcome Janice! Those two quotes go together well, I think.
ReplyDeleteMy God this is beautiful, I still see little scraps of the toddler in my 11 year old and I hear you about the letting go!
ReplyDeleteThank you Rene - yes, the letting go is sooo hard! Enjoy 11, that's a great age. It all goes way too fast.
ReplyDeleteAnd the ghost of her three-year-old self
ReplyDeleteEscapes from my heart
Time does warp every so often!
And the ghost of her three-year-old self
ReplyDeleteEscapes from my heart
Wonderfully written and the feelings so perfectly captured ... an ache indeed.
Scary, I share this fear.
ReplyDeleteThsi is excellent. My favorite line is -
ReplyDeleteShe prepares herself like a sacrifice
I've a seventeen year old ( I recently wrote a poem about her putting on mascara)and your last stanza says it exactly how it is.
This reached out, grabbed my heart and gave it a squeeze. My daughter is 28 and every rare time I get to see her, the ghost of her three-year-old self escapes from my heart.
ReplyDeleteThank you all. It seems to be pretty universal to have a hard time watching our children grow up.
ReplyDeleteI think my mother must be the exception to this rule! She quite likes me being her grown-up Friend :) ('Best Friends' on my good days :)
ReplyDeleteThis is utterly captivating Mary, and even though I don't have children, the same line that has tugged at everyone else, tugs strongly at me too... 'the ghost of her three-year old self escapes from my heart'... I think it has escaped into ours.
p.s. I changed my poem design - thankyou :)
This is so beautiful and heartfelt.
ReplyDelete"She prepares herself like a sacrifice", is a line that opens up to critical exploration of the role of women in the varied human cultures.
great.
ReplyDeletemy son is a cellist.
beautiful tale..heartfelt and moving sentiments..
Shaista - Thank you. I think you're mom is way ahead of the game - it's hard for me to swith from seeing my kids as kids to seeing them as adults. Cheers!
ReplyDeleteAndreas - Thanks, and I agree, there is much worthy of discussion regarding the role(s)of women in society.
Jingle - Thank you. Isn't it wonderful living and growing in a home with music?
A mother's angst well penned...wonderful read!
ReplyDeleteYou mean . . . when you were seventeen you weren't like that?
ReplyDelete"And how can I let her go out
Into a hard, jagged world"
Google will find C.Day Lewis's beautiful poem "Walking Away" for you. It may help. He ends the poem with . . .
"Selfhood begins with walking away.
And love is proved in the letting go."
Tumblewords - thank you :o)
ReplyDeleteLucy - Yes I was ...and I know one of the most important things a parent must do is to let go - but the knowing doesn't make it any easier!
As only a true "MOM" could feel and write ;)
ReplyDeleteI have three beautiful daughters,
ReplyDeleteall out of the nest and out in
that ragged rugged world,
and now the family expands,
weddings, anniversaries, grandchildren,
divorces, son-in-laws, boyfriends,
and some hand outs when need
arises; but adult children are the
richest return on our own investment.
Loved your poem.
Thank you Jbluesboy :o)
ReplyDeleteThank you Glenn; that's good to hear.
That was a lovely tribute told spot on by a Mom. I know my heart will tremble and ache when my little ones get there. Excellent Magpie
ReplyDeleteThank you kkrige! Thanks for reading :o)
ReplyDelete