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Daddy's Last Dance

Dare I touch her white dress?
Lifting her veil was not the same
as lifting her feet is now.
The moment is ours alone,
except for the circle of kin
with knowing smiles and flashbulbs,
Ours alone, but also our last.
It's our song-she chose it,
but it's for us both-I bet
she chose this just to choke me up.
Thank God for vodka Manhattans;
thank God for a baby girl who
grew into a glowing woman.

--Barbara E. Prater, 1998