Yesterday, against admonishment, my daughter balanced on the couch back, fell and cut her mouth. Because I saw it happen I knew she was not hurt, and yet a child's blood so red it stops a father's heart. My daughter cried her tears; I held some ice against her lip. That was the end of it. Round and round: bow and kiss. I try to teach her caution; she tries to teach me risk.
From The Caged Owl: New and Selected Poems by Gregory Orr. Copyright © 2002 by Gregory Orr. Used by permission of Copper Canyon Press. All rights reserved.