April (2012) Daughters

Riona

you speak to almost no one.
we see your shy face
hide behind your mama
as if a couple of years
were lost along your upbringing.

yet,
on stage,
your Peruvian chicken costume
in full polka-dot glory,
straw wings,
paper orange beak and all,
you are a star
as you dance front center,
the folk guitar song
giving new life
to my littlest angel.

Mythili

with focused face
looking so much
like a small adult
that i sometimes forget
you’re a child,
you create art.

a windmill in
perfect proportions
copied from a book,
the oil pastel coloring
as detailed as a
gallery painting

the Girl Scout
finger puppet
where you sit surrounded
by Daisies whose
mothers assist in every step,
you speak not a word
but work diligently
on cutting, gluing,
mastering your art.

this is your gift from God,
this is your gift to the world.

Isabella

you shine your light
wherever you go,
upon your persistent pleas
for a gecko,
a cowboy belt,
or dinner alone with mama.

you direct plays
in the backyard,
setting up obstacle courses
and circuses,
your siblings and friends
falling under your spotlight
to shine in your presence

baby sister mimics all you do,
and at first irritated,
you give in to flattery,
making a parade around the house
and reading all her favorite stories,
your brightness shining
on all you do, see, touch

Shopping

colors of rainbow
in a place i never go
priceless gifts abound

Monosyllabic

five syllables speak
volumes about everything
i wish i could say

Crazy Day

happy hour tailwind
a door opening surprise
what a crazy day

To My Spaniards

there are few words here
my 34th birthday card
you know me so well

Song

you’re the favored song
buried and lost on my list
singing my sunrise

One of Those Moments

i can’t write without the wind.
i line up my alliteration
against the dustbowl afternoon,
the first time a great gale
almost forced me to the ground

it is one of those moments when
fear forces itself into my forefront
and i could forget where i’m going.
it is just me, my pedals, my perseverance,
and the dust that clings to every pore

i push on through a series of green lights
to the man i love
all the way back fifteen years, and
i tell him today (like so many other days)
of the ride i’ve had,
and in this moment
(it is one of those moments)
with the wearying wind, the look in his eyes,
i see my future lie before me

Particles of Light

you are the feathered flowers
that lie buried
in the hand-me-down plant.
i want to run my fingers
across the petals and
pluck out the frilly baby’s breath,
put my nose deep into
the scent
that carries me back ten years,
that carries me to the moment
those flowers became you
(a tile floor, shards of glass,
love hidden in particles of light)

this is the love
that is too soft
for others to touch,
the flowers that will never die
though the plant may fade
into the reality of life cycles,
you will still be as brightly beautiful
as the moment
i placed the stems
in the oh-so-fragile vase,
forgetting for a moment
how what breaks us
is what makes us

Loved

you whisper the words
i’ll remember this moment
we’ll be together

Piano

it sits in our room
becomes a junk piling place
once a dream of mine