Holding On

He held her hands, walked with her and held her.
He held her hands, taught her how to shoot,
taught her how to ride. Rough and strong, he
taught her about life. He showed her love, a father's
love, strong and pure.

He held her hand, the night they thought she
would die, caressed the twisted and bruised skin.
He held her hand when they told her that she
would never bear children, never have life born
from her body.

He held her hand, the day he gave her away.
Watching with tear-bright eyes as she changed her
name. Grinning from ear to ear, swelled with pride.
He held her hand, the day she got the news.
He held her, shaking and crying, to broken to stand.

He held her hand, when she passed away. His
little girl, leaving the world, even the sun seemed to
weep. He saw the truth in his child, in her smile, the
way she walked and talked. He would miss her, but
he would hold her hand when he came into eternity.