Grunting encouragement and nodding my head,
I watched my daughter bicycle in the empty lot
Then skip down to the creek below the busy trail
To search for dragonflies and toads. The hikers shuffled by
Above, on their way up and down like Jacob's angels, above
Where I've ever been. I half believe this world
Is veracious enough to exist outside of me,
And I plan and fantasize as if it will carry on
When I'm gone, but I half suspect it won't.
My daughter demanded I stop writing this poem.
Uh-huh, I said, uh-huh, uh-huh, encouraging
Her to keep trying, myself to buy time to write.
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