'Letters To My Daughter X' Poem by Marty McKenna

you are this early winter sun
my warmth in chill wind,
blinding. you are the calm
to this winter lake, visible

since the leaves left. you
are my moment's break,
standing under blue sky.
as these days return

you are the fresh breath
of what solemn trees have to say;
in four more lines of broken sonnet
you bring joy to me, well.

with this soaring bird call,
and on a drifting wing, you are.

first published by 'perverted by language'