Goodbye Daughter

He remembers the castles she built on the beach, her chubby face shining with pride. Now the dreams he built seem so out of reach, as if they'd washed away with the tide. As he puts a seashell to his ear, he remembers the nights being too tired to play, the little voice he didn't hear, the smile that never went away. Kicking the sand that blankets his feet, he wonders where all the time went? He remembers the puppy she wanted to keep, the hours on the phone that she spent. He remembers her yesterday, dressed in white, face aglow. He was the only one who could give her away, as he realizes he must let her go.