I walked with my daughter, yesterday.
Hand in hand, as when she was a child.

Her mother, guardian once more, I give her hand
a double squeeze; get a double squeeze back.

Her child’s bubbly giggle
inside her adult laugh
shatters time’s persistent grip.  
She is five, once more.

Living sweet memories from before,
our break from battle; recaptured innocence.

“I do that with my sons, too.” so softly said.
“Like you.  I squeeze twice, and they squeeze back.”

Simple things, lovingly engaged,
become our trademarks.

Unplanned inheritance enriches us,
blossoms in the bouquet of our lives;
the endurance of love, to become
heirloom offerings to the future.

Lin Cava©