A Dead Daughter’s Poem

It’s been a long time since we played peek-a-boo,
my hair was soft with spring resting on your fingers
like innocent buds ignorant of wind and curious for dew.

I learned it so fast and hid behind my palms,
making you laugh with a spoon in your hand
and you’d search for my mouth behind my fingers,
worried that perhaps I was lost like blue into dusk.

You always found me, as I trembled at the edge
of my own eclipse and waited for your arms
to turn me into a May breeze hunting for
southern magnolias and spray them with laughter.

We were so good at pretending until one day
after I collected thousands of fallen petals
white with timid afternoons I spilled them
on your head and crowned you with surprises.

Then you decided to stay still like air inside a bubble
and I held my breath to keep you from breaking.

Aida Bode is a writer, poet and translator from Korca, Albania. She’s the author of David and Bathsheba, a novel based on the Biblical story of King David and Bathsheba, the poetic collections True Cheese and Rated, as well as a quotes collection A Commuter’s Eye View. Her prose and poetry have been published and are forthcoming in The River Muse, Dr. Hurley’s Snake-Oil Cure, Vayavya, Oddball Magazine, Boston Poetry Magazine, Yellow Chair Review and more, as well as in multiple Albanian media sources outside and inside the country. She is pursuing her MFA in creative fiction at SNHU.

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One Response to A Dead Daughter’s Poem

  1. Aida Bode says:

    Reblogged this on I write and commented:
    So glad to have been published by this great online magazine!

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