My Daughters by Oliver Kleyer

My daughters come from many countries.

My daughters speak many different languages,

even those I don’t understand.

Still, we always find some common ground,

be it food or football.

My daughters are happy for being here

and sad at the same time for the same reason.

Sometimes my daughters cry.

At other times, all they want is sleep.

I leave them space for sadness, grief, exhaustion,

but also for happiness, joy and laughter.

My daughters bring me little gifts like

chocolate, drawings or a happy smile.

I offer them understanding, communication

and a safe haven.

My daughters are only my daughters

for a short time.

Then they go out into the world,

leaving behind the hope

that I have prepared them well

for what’s to come.

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“This is the first poem I wrote inspired by my work as a German teacher in a refugee camp. I’ve made the experience that especially girls who come to Germany only accompanied by one parent often see a kind of “fatherly friend” in me. Therefore, my colleagues often joke about “my daughters”. This poem has a lot of emotional deepth for me. It is probably the poem I have submitted the most times and  consequently have received the most rejections for, often with the editors telling me, how much they liked it (but still couldn’t accept it). I put it into my “Abandoned” folder, because I am beginning to think it is too personal and maybe also hard to understand without the background information.”

Oliver Kleyer (he/him) is a teacher and poet from Northern Germany. He writes in English and German.  His work  has been published in The Creative Zine, The Basilisk Tree and elsewhere. Find him at libraries, state fairs or at Twitter.com/funnyfrogget.