planetdanika

Today, a poem for you. I am not so eloquent, but my sentiments are in keeping.

Poem: My Daughters Morning by David Swanger from Waynes College of Beauty. BkMk Press, 2006.

My Daughters Morning

My daughters morning streams
over me like a gang of butterflies
as I, sour-mouthed and not ready
for the accidents I expect

of my day, greet her early:
her sparkle is as the edge of new
ice on leafed pools, while I
am soggy, tepid; old toast.

Yet I am the first version
of later princes; for all my blear
and bluish jowl I am welcomed
as though the plastic bottle

I hold were a torch and
my robe not balding terry.
For her I bring the day; warm
milk, new diaper, escapades;

she lowers all bridges and
sings to me most beautifully
in her own language while
I fumble with safety pins.

I am not made young
by my daughters mornings;
I age relentlessly.

Yet I am made to marvel
at the durability of newness
and the beauty of my new one.

Choosing Fish
Our friend Cory visited – he was a big hit with Lucy, as “Uncle Sleepyhead” he encouraged her to sleep lots.

Here they are looking at big ass salmon @ the Fisherman’s Terminal in Seattle.

Many more photos of the weekend are here (on flickr of course!).

Ready for the Zoo
Cameraphone photo from last week; see some other Lucy photos at Lucy XXIV.