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June 6, 2012

Daughters

by gfsnell3

Hidden behind a pane of smeared

glass.

Father.

In a messy kitchen,

gazing out over the brick

patio

scattered with pine needles

and twigs.

There

behind the white picket

fence.

Flashes of barefoot daughters

squealing with joy.

Skipping, jumping,

kicking a soccer ball.

And a weight of anxiety

lifts.

Replaced by the lightness of

dirty faces

and bouncing hair.

 

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