I thought,
on this sunlit
morning, having tea
on my own
stretch of lake,
listening to
the returned pair
of King Fishers
from last year,
their chitters
audible above
the waves,
and now that you
have birthed
and nurse
your own child,
to say that you
were this jewel
now in your arms.
I am reminded
looking over
this vast water
what a gift
a daughter is,
how you opened
to the world,
the way we felt
walking that small
Atlantic island
stopping every so
often to make
mandalas of shells
which glistened
as do your baby’s eyes.