The daughter’s ball-hands bobble from her black
coat sleeves. Her hair sprouts
dark roots morphing to red
then cheapening to yellow.
The underbelly rises ruthlessly
out of her jeans.
I follow behind my little girl, I trail
her into this future.
And when she bounds too far
ahead, I pull
too weakly back.
It’s never enough, no matter how many
times you rewind. You’re still
ghosting the same tensed fists, the same
cowed back, the same determined
yet receding chin —
First published in Michele Seminara’s latest publication, “HUSH” (Blank Rune Press, 2017).