her comments swallowed
like the Christmas morn semen
cranberry juice, please
i’m not defensive
just wish for white Christmases
like everyone else
i can win this game
Cards Against Humanity
with my best haiku
five girls are sleeping
in my parents’ bungalow
i love my city
my favorite movie
It’s a Wonderful Life, YES!!
live and Live and LIVE!!!!
for some it’s the tree
others love the Christmas lights
for me, it’s the roast
scent of cranberries
rosemary, thyme, and red wine
bring my holiday
we’re having roast beast!
the Grinch is absent today
in our happy home
as they grow older
it’s no longer life and death
over midnight cries
now? supply, demand
business modeled parenting
what if we run out?
what can i buy or give
to make them happy, love me?
which–time or gifts?
it’s never enough
they’re either spoiled or loved
often hard to tell
give them the world
so they’ll toss it back to me
demand better one
it’s human nature
to aspire for what’s not there
i’m never enough
love should be enough
i’m up nights loving too much
(they never see this)
as they grow older
i miss the crying days when
i knew they loved me
a hug was enough
to make it through a tough time
and they were all mine
no one will say this
they’ll say how much easier
they’re independent
independent, yes
from our once easy embrace
to face life’s demands
and to demand more
to make me question myself
will this be enough?
no simple response
to parenthood dilemmas
enough guilt tonight
lattice top apple
laid by a baking expert
five years of hard work
culinary school?
kitchens of Denver and Spain
dough soft as her cheek
yes, she was just three
her first try in our kitchen
all to be near me
i can’t buy her dreams
or make Santa come to life
but i’ll give her that
standing room only
crowd hushed for collegiate speech
from a sixth grader
bright academics
the spotlight shines on this school
rainbow of world
social injustice
swept under a brave chorus
strict rules understood
forgotten pencil
equals hour detention?
path drawn to success
unified voices
remedy doubtful choices
good god let them sing
another stressed day
just before Christmas bustle
lost to this sickness
tears fresh this morning
frozen pond glistening dawn
star-studded boathouse
guilt trailing my job
as he rushed home, two sick girls
and me? meetings, plans
she came back today
babyless, unpacking shelves
repacking her life
her despondence stung
i couldn’t leave her alone
burdened with boxes
we made plans, had lunch
I got your card, she told me
we’re not sending any
no family photo
for his first, never Christmas
(this is what i hear)
but she won’t say that,
leaves me lines to read between
your girls’ pic was great
her grief in all words
she tells of Christmas-free plans
prepared to move on
this i carry home
with oldest’s three earned awards
to my handsome chef
his job ends next week
i won’t worry who’ll nurse them
and make chicken soup
noodles fall from spoons
and girls, all better, delight
priceless remedy
now they’ll discuss me
what will he do now, and you?
i’ll have no answer
only the safety
of the home he makes for us
beyond what they see
mother’s midnight dance:
rinse puke from stuffies and sheets
listen for gag sounds
hazy dose of job
sick grandma cares for sick girl
while sick husband works
cycle never ends
grandmother mother daughter
through sickness, health
mother’s twilight dance:
six laundry loads, leave sick girl
in hands now soft, warm
sleep? a silent joke
stolen from night, afternoon
thieves, our mothers’ love
like a lost puppy
he waits every afternoon
hoping for some help
i enable him
wonder where his friends might be
knowing he has none
everyday struggles
of left-behind countries, wars
haunt my students’ lives
tomorrow, the same
i’ll give him the look; give in
heart too wrenched for no
i’ll carry work home
(not as heavy as his load)
pray peace will find us
survived another
harried nonstop dash Monday
give me winter break
if i’d a real job?
i’d go home early when sick
not pop pills to last
i’d go out to lunch
have adult conversations
away from all kids
how tiring talk
not filled with young undertones
would surely make me
instead i’ll take this:
endless work weeks, sick through some
needy happy kids
and yes, winter break
no holiday turmoil
my kids all around
timid youngest one
belts out her favorite chorus
shines when she’s on stage
middle girl hidden
by misplaced tall fourth grader
i still hear her sing
it won’t be long now
(and i pinch back dreaded thoughts)
this will be over
my oldest, seated
not with us, but with the friends
she has gained this year
how miraculous
to see her back to herself
facing the world
i faced eleven
in this auditorium
but i didn’t sing
three girls, different tunes
wonder where notes will lead them
back to me, i hope
