I’m missing my daughter this time of year
Tears wrung from dried out prayers
The empty sandbox
The ghost teasing my dreams
And my mind brings the memory up
During anniversaries, holidays
and such
As if to wake my body up
Since half my heart died with her anyway
“hello hello, it’s that time again”
but i’d rather not stop
I’d rather not think
about such a horrific loss
but tonight I visioned a porch swing
Attached to an old house, a Victorian
I was bundled up with my sisters
and there she was playing
With her cousins, saying
Hi mom
and her orange hair was tangled from the wind
that couldn’t get enough of her strawberry scent
so it kissed her
again and again
and I smiled and laughed
but never left that swing
because I knew she was an angel
until we meet again.