Feral Child

Frolicking amongst sensuous daisies,
self-consciously aware, she darts,
impatiently, gathering petals and scents,
her skin gleaming and essential.

Like a scared rabbit she flees,
requiring my gaze, each leap nearing my
sacred boundary of maternal patience, seeking
to ignite that indulgent flame of pity and
impetuous love, buried somewhere deep.

Her soft eyes demand Demeter's affection,
penetrating beyond my casual pretense
and stolid facade--I watch her endlessly
until one day she obliterates the rules
of my fortress, proud defense powerless
against a fleet of mountainous emotions.

Though my frail arms cannot contain her
feral spirit, just once, by the lamp-post,
next to the daisy-field, I will catch her,
and as I hold her she will know
she is beautiful.