THE MODEL DAUGHTER

A tendril of titian curl escapes
your tawny tousled hair.
Distrait, it's tucked away
behind the ear.
Paper-thin face, eyes kohl-smudged.
Rosebud mouth nibbles with restraint
some egg-white nonsense
and sips green juice.
Our parental powers melting sadly
as you; the holder of our dreams
slip thin pale arms
into a cushioned, quilted coat.
Blow air kisses absent-mindedly.
Your fragile footsteps tap the pavement,
then disappear into a sunless morning.