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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=535747" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>For My Daughter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=535747" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Looking into my daughter’s eyes I read <br>Beneath the innocence of morning flesh <br>Concealed, hintings of death she does not heed. <br>Coldest of winds have blown this hair, and mesh <br>Of seaweed snarled these miniatures of hands; <br>The night’s slow poison, tolerant and bland, <br>Has moved her blood. Parched years that I have seen <br>That may be hers appear: foul, lingering <br>Death in certain war, the slim legs green. <br>Or, fed on hate, she relishes the sting <br>Of others’ agony; perhaps the cruel <br>Bride of a syphilitic or a fool. <br>These speculations sour in the sun. <br>I have no daughter. I desire none.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Weldon+Kees">Weldon Kees</a></strong></div>

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