Now my daughter
presents herself in parts.
When she was a child
all of her was here.
But, now grown
it is the similitude of others
that brings her near.
A high forehead
resting on lush eyebrows
puts her in my mind.
At times she emerges
from a mass of thick, reddish wavy hair.
Often a girl's slim arm, freckled by summer,
recalls her.
A dancer's long legs, graceful neck
materializes her from a stage.
The other night I passed her tall silhouette
in a dim lit yard.
Then the stars appeared.

- Bernard Otterman