Trading Places

Gradually, she became my daughter.
She leans against me now.
She’s a slim novella. I’m a solid
reassuring cookbook.

Because she has a fear that can’t be quenched,
I am with her. Someone is always with her.
She peers around corners. Shyly,
she looks at me for explanation.
If only I had one.

She woke up one day in a forest, and
did not recognize her surroundings.
An entire lifetime was gone.
One minute, a college girl,
next minute, a near-centenarian,
not sure where the kitchen is.

She remembers trillium in springtime,
her twin brother’s car, but not his name.
She thinks I will abandon her.
It’s touching to see her reach out and poke me.
Am I real?

All I can give now are reassurances and lies.
There is nothing to fear, Mother.
Nothing at all.