Miguel Caldas
Maria
As I touched my daughter’s hands,
small, clean and uncreased,
I heard a voice:
“Life is the elegance of leaving.”
I held her tight,
and thought of all the time I won’t have with her.
Maria
As I touched my daughter’s hands,
small, clean and uncreased,
I heard a voice:
“Life is the elegance of leaving.”
I held her tight,
and thought of all the time I won’t have with her.