Daughters
Silvertongue looks at his daughter with eyes
That glow like one of my throwing-torches.
I have not told him I left behind
Two daughters to compete with his one.
What will they think as years march by,
Returning no father to them at all?
A father, who might have stayed far away often,
But never for years and years at a time.
Silvertongue kisses his daughter's cheek.
Does he call himself lucky for this privilege?
If I ever see my two daughters again,
They will be far too old for a father's embrace.
A faithful father I'll admit I was not,
But always there was the choice to go back home.
Now that choice is stolen from me…
Will I ever see those little faces again?
Silvertongue watches his daughter grow up.
Mine may be grown before I return.
Let me at least dream of them now and then,
Be they nightmares, be they bringers of tears.