In the cold, distant whisper of midnight's air, A cry rang out—911, the silence it did tear. We stood, transfixed, as fate's cruel hand took flight, Never forget, they said, that shattering night. Her heart ceased its dance, in a breathless plea, One last glance exchanged, our souls held in decree. Yet life goes on, as the dawn did allow, And so we gathered and brought in the cows. The fields still called with whispers of the past, Land toiled by hands, memories held fast. Morning came gentle, milking with care, A ritual familiar, of a love rare. Through time's gentle molding, across seasons’ unfurl, Forever and always, Daddy's little girl.