Tuesday, December 17, 2013

bath time

water washes through
her hair, smelting gold and
silver down her back

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

casting shadows

under the winter
sun, when noon looks like sundown,
she makes tree poses.

Sunday, December 1, 2013


She's sweaty and warm
in my arms as we sit and
listen to street noise.

She just woke up from
a nightmare, so her little
mouth is cracked and dry.

It clicks in the most
pleasant way when she whispers,
"Kids is screamin.  Yeah."

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

when i wear a braid

tiny fingers touch
my neck. "wow, beautiful,
oh my word," she says.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

fight or flight

"wow wow wow" she says
in a giant exhale. "oh
my word.  wonderful."

we are walking through
our neighborhood in the
dark for the first time,

and she is amazed.
i remember when i felt
that same vertigo,

the height and mass of
the city nearly sucked me
in as i looked up --

her father saw my
panic and said, "don't worry,
it's like a big hug."

Monday, November 4, 2013

she knows.

i am frustrated.
our cat has been howling for
forty five minutes.

not sweet little mews
but full-blown MROOOOOOWs that echo
down the hall, through the

baby monitor --
insanity in stereo sound.
a sippy cup drops

and spills.  our dog barks
and paces.  our other cat
chirps, demanding food.

the sonic clutter
is closing in around me.
then from far away,

a tiny voice says,
"bonjour mama. how are you?"
it's a warm blanket;

empathy that she
doesn't even understand.
"all better.  Thank you."

Sunday, November 3, 2013


I have 2 more days 
with my baby.  2 more days
because the experts

decided seven-
hundred-thirty-one days is
long enough for her

to be so young.  And 
I would keep her this way,
milky-breathed and soft,

were it not for my
curiosity about
what she'll grow to be.