Our Daughters' Teeth

She left home a month ago
in a matter-of-fact way.
No tears were shed, no
lingering goodbyes.
She was leaving,
not walking away.
It was the natural thing to do.

It didn't go against the grain.
This is the way it should be:
her moving to centre stage,
we two to the wings.

Now we fill the void
with phone calls
and photographs.
She smiles at me each day
from a silver frame.

And those of us with daughters
no longer at home
count ourselves blessed
that they went
of their own accord
to a known address.

Not glimpsed by a camera
as a car drew up:
the teeth she showed
as she smiled at the driver
later used to identify her.