The Young Father and His Daughter
No one told him to hold her like that
all close to his chest, swaying side to side,
he reckoned it was his turn.
Two meters away she propped her
right elbow on the steering wheel,
clutching her temple, shifting all her
weight to one side in hopes that
he would notice- she had things to do.
But no, he lowered his eyes,
enclosed by the yellow awning of the lampshop,
cradling her head in his right hand.
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