The summer her father took his life
She was but ten and still a child.
After all these many years,
Her thoughts of him grow dim,
Faded by time into sepia tones
Of distance and pale memories,
Dark images of strife, now tempered
By ancient sorrow and loss.
The cost to a young girl
Of the early loss of her father
Is hard to measure in her maturity.
It is written in failed relationships
Throughout her adult life.
The circumstances of the loss
Of her primary parent make it
Difficult for her to trust,
To trust any man, who --
Like the parent -- may somehow leave.
She can only bear so much loss
And protects herself against pain
By taking no risks.
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