This poem was written after my daughter had left home, and I realized how much I had really missed that was there to see as I had been trying to make the "Almighty Dollar."
Her eyes saw the piglet
with curled tail and shrill squeal
crowding its way in to get its
share of the old sow's milk.
My eyes saw twenty-five dollars
or meals provided when the
cold months of winter made it
difficult to let the land supply.
Her eyes saw the shadows crawling
spider--like across her bedroom walls
bringing with them every hideous
monster her mind could construct.
My eyes saw the coming of evening when
I could rest from the labors of the day--warm
shadows that brought sleep and caressed my
my mind, wiping away worries.
Her eyes saw the yellow crowns of dandelions
begging her to make a bouquet which would
be destined to become a wilted mass of
blooms on the bulkhead of the cellar.
My eyes saw the weeds that were choking the green
grass of my lawn--an enemy bent on destroying--
worthless plants that were
disguised in a golden allure.
Her eyes saw the falling snowflakes as crystals
of magic promising a snowman and playing a
a tune that only a child
could fully understand.
My eyes saw the coldness
of a snowplow bill, or the backache
coming from lifting mounds
of the horrid white stuff.
Her eyes saw the rainbow arching across
the gray sky framed by summer leaves and
drops of rain. My eyes saw this, too,
And, at last, our eyes had met.
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