Unbound
(A pantoum)

Although he died a dozen summers past,
His daughter mourned the tacit bond that frayed
Before Death’s hand could knock. What knife uncast
The father-daughter knot? Was Time the blade?

His daughter mourned the tacit bond that frayed.
Bare girlhood’s fragile fingers tightly clasped 
The father-daughter knot. Was Time the blade
Swung high, let laughter wane and woe slip past

Bare girlhood’s fragile fingers, tightly clasped?
Not vigilant, her youthful self just played, 
Swung high, let laughter wane and woe slip past
And through their bond’s unspooling palisade.

Not vigilant, her older self just played
While veiled, a dozen silent summers passed.
And through their bond’s unspooling palisade,
Before Death’s hand could knock – the knife fell fast.

Mindy Watson

If you have any comments on this poem,  Mindy Watson   would be pleased to hear from you.