Daughter number three will be waiting for me;
one month since she left her home for Nice.
I have the items she requested-hair clips and
bobbles, and a jar of chilli flakes; I hope I got it right.
The flight is busy, but relatively quiet-tea
and chocolate is the order of the day.
I hear a baby cry at the front of the plane and I
remember the long haul to Australia; London, Hong
Kong and then Sydney; daughter three was but a bairn.
A journey that I wish never to make again, with her crying
in my arms. Her big blue eyes, looking up at me-me
willing her to sleep. With eyes now green, she waits for me.