Definition

it could be the Spanish-English mix
from the nanny’s mouth as we sat in the zoo,
my thoughts of the last day of summer
slipping from my hands
quicker than the tears
my baby cried to sleep with,
or the anger inside
that someone would pay another
for everything i love the most.

it could be the defriending,
his cold absence of words in my presence,
or her emphatic insistence
that eight months is enough
time with her baby
when a thousand years
would not satiate me.

it could be the story i love
coming to a bittersweet end,
or the small voices
absent from my home
on the one day when
i need them most.

but i will never be quite able
to define what haunts me.

Mixer

i cannot replicate the complex crest
nor mimic la bandera de España.
i cannot be the arms of your mother
or speak coherently her tongue.

i can only pour in the ingredients,
spin the mixer of all we desire,
and place before you in red and yellow
everything your presence means to me.

i cannot say in words what the cake will tell
in so many sweet remembrances,
so many little tastes that sparkle
like the teardrops in the corners of her eyes.

July Daughters (2011)

Isabella

not a tear or a fear
you smile at adventure
we leave you for four days
and the silence of your absence
is brighter in my mind
than the happy photos
of your smiling face
that they send to us

Riona

words escape you
as you blink back dark eyes
and growing-out bangs,
hiding behind my leg,
your babyhood reemerging

yet

when they are gone
you endlessly request
the words that have filled our hearts
(after moments of hesitation)
they magically conjure from your mouth

Mythili

a pile of donated clothes
sit like humped garbage
on the living room floor

i open bags
sift through worn-out knees
and missing-mate shoes

Oh, I didn’t know new dresses were coming in
your six-year-old crone remarks,
lighting a fire beneath my doubts.

Wall

the distance between
this loveless lunch
and the long drive you’ll never take
is immeasurable in eyes
hidden behind our family wall.

Always an Adventure

the rain beats down
as we stand in hushed surprise
rush to the endless line of cars
where we wait wait wait
always an adventure

the stars beat down
on a tent without poles
dirt as thick as cream on skins
fires that won’t start
always an adventure

the sun beats down
on a misnavigating device
streets clogged with crowds
underground cracks of hellish heat
always an adventure

my soul beats down
on two jobs, three kids
bills piling like paper mountains
parents who miss what i have:
always an adventure

Door to Shore

she’s shoeless behind me
and he carries a load
worth a thousand pounds in gold
we coast down to the beach
(four miles from door to shore)
pedal harder home in summer rain
that tickles our backs
as thunder threatens our ears

this is the Vittetoe Express
missing a link along the line
broken into bright patches of light
as three girls, two chairs, two floaties,
one giant Camelbak,
and the love of my life
carry us home

Bloodletting

it has seeped out overnight
the words lie flat in mountain noon sun
hidden behind pale shadows
unable to fight back the bright

you say to him what i say to mine
i can feel the oozing out of veins
as the peaks disappear in the rearview mirror
skyscrapers nestling us into our nest

i will be weaker now as in those past pale moments
your secrecy lost upon me
but lighter too with the capillary release
of tiny heart drops draining to the ground

June Daughters (2011)

Riona

curled in lap like kitten
you nestle in near the baby
remember that you are the baby
though simultaneously
you tag along with sisters and friends
try to partake
in your almost-five world
of big kid-dom
show your cousin how to hold a book
how to slide down the big slide
how to spray the hose
how to be
the beautiful little person
you have come to be

Isabella

whisperer
you listen in to all our conversations
picking out nuances
like the brightly colored beads
you choose for your necklaces
identifying each sparkling word
for its hidden meaning

whisperer
we stand along the fence
our neighing voices lost in the wind
you dash across, wipe the sky with your voice
high pitched and hard to hear
the horses listen, gallop
at the fence line in five seconds
your hand out with carrots as
thick equine lips pluck everything
from your fearless fingers

whisperer
you lift her out once
guide her to slides
push her in swings
she is head over heels
and denies me
only allows you
to wrap your arms around her
heave her up
change her diaper
and speak in a language
the adults can’t understand

Mythili

forethought and logic
shouldn’t quite fit
with a child younger than seven

yet you stop as sisters
blow away money with the wind
saving yours for something special
still trapped inside your imagination

you tell it like it is
pointing out the necessity of native plants
the reasoning behind new sidewalks
the purpose of cold hose water in the pool

i see you now
new front teeth coming in
i see you then
new world coming in
your forethought and logic
the backbone of who you are.

Glass

a hill that even
the toddler tries to roll down
mother tangled in dizziness
surrounded by trees
thickest oak in eastern Kentucky
(takes three of us
to wrap our arms around it)
a forest
as real as it gets
with disc golf mountain bike trails
a muddy creek
and “looks like glass” waterfall
log from one side to the other
yes
in the middle
of
the
city
houses lining the park
with Bermuda grass beauty
sister brother-in-law niece
and i think
why isn’t this my home?

Breeze of Love

single women in spaghetti straps
men in khakis, collars and ties
linger in line for $3 microbrews
as we soak up the sounds of summer

girls giggle and groove at the front
forgetting for once they’re so small
beer bubbles in belly, beckons a smile
carrying kids through crowds into crescents

the ride home through Victorian
Colonial Craftsman Contemporary
bike lanes on every side street
brings a breeze of love through Lexington
lovely to love, to live, to meet.