love

Peaks

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if i could take those peaks,
the rays of sunlight streaming,
snatch them up from my desktop pic,
from the hands that formed them

if i could have the magical hands
that shaped this imperfect world
then perhaps i could put in perspective
the shame that hovers darker than clouds,
blocks those rays from reaching my heart.

but i can’t. i’m not God, nor have the magic
that you so desire, that seeps out of her eyes
with remorse for my harsh words, her unveiling,
that sends you to bed with night two of anguish.

if i could take those peaks,
those rays of sunlight in my hands,
i would wash our sins with the elevated air,
reshape who you are in my eyes,
release the shame from both of our souls.

March (2011) Daughters

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Riona

i will not forget these moments:
your tea party picnic
Charlotte and all
plastic food eaten
and regurgitated for later.

your thrill at holding the yoke
carrying buckets of water from well
being four and a half years
full of smiles.

your dances/songs
where you spin on sticky bare feet
and intertwine your love for me
with utterances of sisterly annoyances.

your hands held defiantly high
when they try to mock you:
I AM ONLY FOUR
in beauteous indignation.

Mythili

you’ve been duped.
i couldn’t tell you
couldn’t find the words
for me taking a day off
driving you to the dentist
forcing you to sit in the chair.

you sit silent as a stone
as the laughing gas
is put like clown’s nose
into your lungs.
they say how good you are
again and again.

he cuts into your gums
and i watch as your fists clench,
but not a tear streaks down,
not a grumble or whine.

we move to the car,
plastic jewelry prizes in hand.
i buckle you in
and you shoot me the
you tricked me look.

we arrive home
to a fridge full of
pudding, jello, ice cream.
you remember you are six
(not all grown up)
and break into a jubilant smile.

Isabella

you won’t listen
but you’ll direct.
Pull the tails off like this.
I’ll hold my fingers. You count.
Find the letter M.
Twist the bottom of the toothbrush.

like a monkey you climb
onto the counter
scavenging for spoons
plates
glassware
assigning seats at the table
with the air of a hostess

i remember when
the other babies were here.
you couldn’t walk,
but you climbed right into
the patio chair
giggling like a gorilla
posing proudly
at your accomplishments,
confident then,
leader now.

Pain to Peace

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i step inside to tears
worthy of sudden death,
three red-eyed girls
limp with want,
unable to spill the tale.

my heart jumps into my veins.
“where’s Daddy?” i pop out.
“what’s wrong?”
but tears and moans
fill the gaping holes
of longing.

their pain is my panic.
i pull them into my arms,
sing them songs,
wait for the story to sift through
the tormented version of truth
their small minds will allow.

he enters, patient but done,
his version highly revised,
worthy of publication.
with girls in arms,
books on laps,
words and pictures from pages,
hugs and kisses goodnight,
we move from pain to peace.

Me

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i don’t want to be here.
i’m good at this.
i’ve read enough
to share stories and articles
with my co-teachers,
have taught enough
to take over their lessons on the fly,
remember her words enough
to stand at the front and teach
while simultaneously seeing students
for who they really are,
can move through classrooms
and schedules with
hauntingly smooth ease,
can grade a stack of 150
short constructed responses
before the state test is over
and still take the time
to cry a little when i see
how poor a student’s score will be

but i cannot
i cannot
take the tears out of my four-year-old’s eyes
after the rushed-morning goodbye,
the words i cannot take back,
the days
the months
the years
i cannot take back,
the me
(the mommy me)
who i fear will never be as good
as the me
who walks down these hallways.

Song

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the beat is in the background
subtle
wavering
but i can still hear it.

instrumentals move in
twangy
sweet
vocals pounding microphone.

lyrics flow (honey from mouth)
stretched
anticipatory
words that try to hide it.

a breath, a moment without verse
ba-dum
ba-dum
breaking through the song.

i wait for the beat to take over
penetrating
impregnable
for you to hear what i hear.

Commute

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cat’s paws on glass
dented side panel
dash lights that haven’t
worked in five years
bits of wrappings
from kids’ endless
candy expenditures
taped-on headlight
zip-tied bumper
broken visor
windshield crack
of spider-ice
locks and windows
you have to open
by hand
broken cup holders
too small for any drink
radio numbers
you can no longer see.

and you dare ask
how i could layer on
thick butt pad
sports-bra undershirt
two long underwear tops
one long underwear bottom
bike capris
two pairs of socks
two sets of gloves
a bandana, hat, scarf
a helmet and headphones
a saddle bag filled with
lunch and work clothes?

oh.
you missed
the silver sliver of moon
the last star of night
the windless morn
Aurora’s pink fingertips
painting the sky
the top of the hill home
where the curving road
presented its framed picture
of the city skyline
distantly mirrored
by snow-capped fourteeners.

i understand.
you would rather be warm.
i would rather have warmth.

February Daughters (2011)

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Isabella

infinitesimally eight
you round out your three-day weekend
with consecutive sleepovers
endless games and dives
at Casa Bonita
and round-the-block singing
of Girl Scout songs
in your train of Brownie vests.

infinitesimally eight
i hope you will remember
this bright moment
of your youth
with these words you will
someday read.

Mythili

Mixing in with the older set
Yearning for forever-gone blankey
True to your matter-of-fact words
Heatedly demanding justice
Imaginative to no end
Loving the art that shapes your life
Inundated with the realities of school.

Riona

tears and sobs take control of you
at the mere mention of Daddy’s death
a death unknown, far-reaching
and my arms can’t console
the sensitive child
who needs to nestle
in his shoulder,
dentist-forbidden thumb in mouth,
your cries simmering down
to the ever emanating warmth
of his love for you,
his Daddy’s Girl.

Homecoming

/ lovizmytrio / 2 Comments

today could be
that night after Homecoming
lying on the floor
of her room
when you and i whispered
into the night,
our teenage angst
spilling out
like blood on the carpet,
revealing our souls,
sealing our friendship.

they play at our feet now,
interrupt our talk
with nursing needs
finding toy needs
food on the table needs,
but our mouths
spill out words
in a rush of
it’s-been-too-long
and
it’ll-never-be-long-enough.

and just as your oldest
and my youngest
find their comfortable niche
of bug-and-Tinker-Toy play,
you and i,
just like that night after Homecoming
when you moved from friend to best,
fulfill our needs
girl-like, loose,
our old and new selves
coming home
at last.

Wrapped

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with my ear to the carpet
the cathartic words
emanated from his lips
the drumbeat heavy on my skin.

wrapped in blankets
that couldn’t keep me warm
i played the tunes
time after tenuous time.

my mother came in
stood in the kitchen
dishing up the pasta
singing right along.

she never noticed
the untouched plate
the hours on the couch
or the music that i couldn’t turn off.

i stand here now
wrapped in winter coat
that can’t keep me warm
and remember the heartbreak cold.

Filling Our Empty Spaces

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it’s Valentine’s Day
and decked out in red,
heart earrings in place,
ready for my Brownie tea party,
i tuck cookies into mailboxes
and begin my day.

the words on the screen
jump out at me,
ripping all the love
from this ever-loving day
straight from my heart
as i embrace the truth
of what they will miss.

my chili lunch,
my box of chocolate strawberries,
my desire
are left uneaten
as i move through the motions,
counting the minutes
until i am safe to let
everything out in
words
tears
screams
that no one will hear.

but i can’t.
it is not about me
or my mistake
or anyone’s miscommunication.
it is about what is best for them,
and before you even close the door,
i know you will listen.

we sit at the circular table,
each sharing our version
of the empty spaces
that lie before us.

and before the moment
can slip between our fingers,
you help me find the words
i didn’t know i had,
filling our empty spaces,
reminding me why i love it here,
how you listen,
how you lead,
solve problems,
dry the tears
that now creep back into
the corners of my eyes
as i write these words.

because there are no words
to truly describe
the love that is here
in this room, this school,
this place where the students come first,
where you stand tall
and step aside
in the same graceful moment.