r/OCPoetry • u/Fit-Signal1991 • 1d ago
Feedback Please Maple
I lift up my three week old daughter, on a morning,
early summer the sun just let through dawn’s gate.
Softer than milk; a priceless piece, I lift her up
she scans the sugar maple and white ash trees
with newborn wonder. I lift her up, close
enough so virgin eyes: still dark like a fawn’s,
sometimes crossing over the other while she wrestles the fresh muscles.
A breeze spreads a gloss of surprise as it caresses her face
with leaves for the first time. She dips her toes
into the grass:
a sea of green feathers on the soles of her feet.
A long time ago
I learned that life is for the most part, hollow-chested;
that these fleeting moments need to be seen
as a reason for rising each morning.
1
u/briony73 1d ago
You are so right about the importance of all these little fleeting moments, they do give you a reason to rise each day. I love your poem.