Isabella

you are too tall now
to stand as i braid your hair
your bridal veil and dress
await a night of tricks and treats
you tell me
i always wanted my hair like yours
when i tell you it’s my wedding day ‘do
and i think
how can this be,
my fingers intertwining strands of three
on my girl growing up
too fast before me?

Mythili

you take the words
from your sister’s homework
cup them in your hands
carry them in your heart
tap them with love
and pencil-thin art onto the paper
fold your story in half
and melt my motherly eyes
with your Spanish gift.

Riona

you move your way
through piles of work
with little whimpers of want
but tenacity gets you through
just as your patient smile
carries you through
everything else set before you.