Whirly-Girl

By
I see myself
Only younger and free.
I see her big blue eyes glitter with
happiness and bliss.
Homework, boys, college,
don’t even phase her 7-year-old mind.
I smile to myself, remembering,
reminiscing
in the simplicity of youth.
Curiosity fills me, and I crouch down to her eye level and ask:
“Who’s you’re hero, whirly-girl?”
She giggles and says:
“Daddy of course”





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