Here goes

Somewhere between 15 and 20 years ago, I wrote this poem. It's based on my memory of something when I was very young.

Here I must explain that the poem is in no way expressing anything against my sister or my dad. And it only represents one small thing, not my whole life with my father. I wanted to write a poem, and when you write a poem you find a way to show what you're talking about.  Blah, blah, blah.

Obviously, I'm about to put the poem here, or I wouldn't feel the need for that explanation.

Daddy's Girl

Carol Schiess

In that window-walled

square room of yours

you play a fast clack clack song

on the L. C. Smith black keys.

Seated you are my height--

I can see the window's shine

on your head, my voice can speak

straight into your ear.

You do not look up

or stop your fingers

while I tell my request.

I think you must hear me.

In the flowered chair,

you hold my sister on your lap

as rain slaps the street outside

and runs down our long hill.

The lamp throws a yellow light

around you, yellows your head,

your teeth, your tongue as you laugh,

saying funny names, made-up words

whose meaning I guess at.

You touch her hair, her face,

call her china doll.