Something about Sophie

On a picnic in the park,
‘Hold still!’ he’d told her...
Just two years old,
this blonde-bombshell
of a toddler. ‘Only something
in your eye. I’ll have it out
in a jiff,’ he’d tried
to reassure her.

Those trusting eyes,
like limpid pools, locked
with his, and he’d heard
waves lap the shore
in Bali...heard the beat
of a petrel’s wings in flight.
Saw Niagara Falls –
the Hanging Gardens
of Babylon; traversed
the world, on the back
of a unicorn.

And all because,
in the palm of his hand,
he’d held a whisper
of an eyelash. Witnessed
her sobs turn to laughter
as she’d chuckled
when a gust of wind
spirited it away.

*********

A smile dies on his lips;
shuts, tight, the photo album...
Relinquished, as it is,
to the dark of a drawer,
feels tears well up inside –
recalling how it began;
since a lifetime ago,
the mourning of the loss –
even the tiniest part,
of his daughter.