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I’ve not been writing at all lately. Mainly because I’m afraid of it. Sometimes it just makes me feel worse to write.

I did, however, pen this little poem after seeing a photo of my lovely daughter, taken when it was all still fresh:

2012-08-03 12.19.20I wake up…
her forehead pressed to my chin
a comfort fleeting
as it all comes rushing back.
I gently break contact
so I can see my features
in her dreaming face.
Her calm breathing
tells me she’s still in that place
still, safe and warm.
Contentedly dreaming
of thick green meadows…
love, laughter, joy.
Where grandmothers bake cookies
and give warm, soft hugs
Instead of losing hair,
strength, legs, mind…
Where little brothers
giggle and play
Instead of silently dying
before her innocent eyes.
And the mother bird in me
realizes the lie
of my own protective powers.
And as her eyelids flutter
like a sparrow’s wings,
it’s time to be strong again…
(another lost cause)
I wrap my arms around her
“Five more minutes, ok…?”
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