There was a daddy, 
playing, no sitting,
staring out beyond, 
past his little girl’s 
twisting body,
as she hung in motion, 
on a warm summer day.
He tried to focus on his princess,
past the sunlight, 
that streaked through the growing shade,
beneath the overhang of the trees,
under which he chose to sit;
motion from the drifting breeze,
that from time to time brought life,
to her leafed branches,
dreaming of what might have been,
what should have been.
He could only ponder,
her now distant embrace,
that time was slowly dissolving.
Still he cherished this simple moment,
even as it unraveled in his thoughts of yesterday.
Too late did he realize it was lost,
slipped through his grasp.
He was left with lingering uncertainties, 
of what would become of his dancing twirling angel,
fragile, lost to this warm humid day; and
if there would be another time she would be revealed,
in the twisting patterns between sun and shade.