baby’s first camp nights
like a babe, slept the whole drive
to nest in my arms
Come summer, you’ll go?
Of course, Mama, I can’t wait!
so soon she’ll be gone
but now? trucks and dolls
bedtime cuddles she demands
innocence still ours
can i trap her face
her infectious giggling?
always my baby
an hour of work
but i am no hairdresser
falls loose too quickly
parents up above
glass ceiling meant for spying
friends hear her grievance
she flashes the look
exasperated with me
behind glass, i wave
when this is over
will i have the nice photo
or preteen ‘tude chant?
on the way to camp
my little ones’ voices sang
loving farewell chant
why can’t she stay young
choose camp over awkward dance
to throw her mom looks?
why can’t we stay young
choose love over wanton youth
and just be ourselves?
Eritrean lunch
post-war teacher offering
how blessed they make me
youngest’s six sound bites
mad, glad, hungry, scared… favorite?
Mama’s “Für Elise”
tears backstage, waiting
for a song i can’t quite play
that’s her favorite sound?
middle school yelling
another homework battle
oldest sets standards
caught in the middle
daughter two rattles school story
steals bed time cuddles
how spicy, this meal
carried across continents
homemade, just like us
homework Saturday
spun through web of fall colors
parked our playground joy
old enough to ride
and catch dreams along the way
my girls growing up
last of season cones
pumpkin pie, football flavors
as the north wind blows
still sing childhood
though the oldest’s lost in books
hope i can find her
leaves sprinkle the ground
like fire light our way home
home… life Saturday
just one mile walk home
to car-shop drop-off frenzy
begin evening stress
science fair project
won’t keep quiet on my mind
leaves alleviate
no avocados?
two wheels, backpacked ride to store
guacamole dreams
oldest cycles home
begins three-shower cycle
all by six-forty
spicy tacos rest
on spicy dream-home dispute
taste still in my mouth
all ’cause he worked late
foreshadowing our future:
crap hours, low pay
sacrifice my peace
for shut-in civility?
i’d rather be poor
rich are days with him
those hours in his absence?
a chronic longing
even the girls cry
as they will with no ‘good nights’
tears don’t buy us time
the two-income trap
snagging our life with more debt
all for image, greed
just one mile walk back
where refugee students wait,
offer perspective
bag on, keys in hand
lights still off, door prop broken
they wait for me here
never a moment
to take a breath or a rest
once here? i breathe them
spinning hat cycle
switch styles: students, admin
teach, plan, grade, succumb
bag down, keys waiting
lights come on, i work past dark
they wait for me there
somewhere in between
i put on the mama hat
dinner, bed cuddling
i dream of yoga
breathing in, out, stretching soul
hats off, i breathe them
lunch date spin cycle
soaking up blue sky autumn
park hopping joy ride
with stressed frustration
my mother’s voice comes through mine
i’m a child again
only now? my girl
is the brunt of my anger
yet she bounces back
resilience through love
something i was missing then
my mom aches to fix
life’s a big regret
played out in haunted voices
singing us to sleep
start and end with work
how ungodly my Sunday
blessings everywhere
painted face friends grin
i enjoy two thirds of joy
my kids everywhere
from Iraq, Burma
Eritrea, refugees
whose faces aren’t here
i guide them with words
never as harsh as a mom
because they’ve suffered
my girls? only joy
bestowed on Americans
with rich white privilege
no way to explain
my work-fair-filled church-less day
may God bless us all
a three-foot hallway
blanket, last year’s science boards
fort made of magic
here we play cadoo
spin tales with pictures and acts
clinging to our youth
she begs to cuddle
as morning melts into noon
always my baby
we play piano
i grade, then guide her through math
later, a hike fight
sun swallows the creek
as they beg back summer swims
but leaves are gold-tipped
the baby departs
we have our own sleepover
with love, city lights
they spin spaghetti
dance beside beer cyclists
here we fall for fall
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