Daughter

"Crying Child" by Susan Auchincloss

Three decades is long enough to see.

I'm cutting my losses on all fronts.

I can't stand the heartache.

You can always come back and claim your daughter, 
but I can not sit here and wait for it any longer.


Goodbye Father.
maybe you will call before the cirrhosis calls your body home.

I could understand if you were not able, but you are, for the one child you chose. And she will drain you into death for all your inheritance. The other two have hearts choking on dust. At least the baby has a good family and is only partially bitter. But I have to cut these chains or continue going down into the undertow. With me, as always, it is sink or swim. I love you. I choose to swim.

and Mother,

maybe when you understand
that you can not give birth to have someone to feed on.
Children are not acceptable free rides out of poverty.
Inconvenient punching bags in the corner, 
too frightened to ask for food,
and left in the care of Satan.
Again and again.

And now I am old, and tired. 
Few can understand how long and quiet I have waited.
But, I am done.