In the last days of August
My daughter rode the river waves
And they caught her like life
Catches us all
Holding her tightly in its grip
Extracting final breath
Skipping her to the next life
Like sunlight shimmering on the water.
I should be unconditionally happy for her,
But sadness twist my soul
Like a river whitecap.
Until she shakes her finger and says,
That’s not what you taught me, Mom.