My Daughter Plays the Piano

My daughter plays the piano and I am carried through time. I hear the first chorded cry, after the lifesong of her body broke open my womb and burst forth like a melody. Our voices, separate, but blended as one. The movement of her youth is passed. A lively staccato that made us dance and…

Grief is a River

Grief is a river that now runs through my life.  Sometimes it is slow and steady, passing gently over rocks of remembrance, pooling up in beautiful, idyllic scenes where the late afternoon sun brushes through the trees and paints the waters and the riverbank in bright splashes of quivering light.  The aching beauty of having…

The Daily Turn #27: For Rosie, My First Child

Sometimes I hardly recognize you– like just now when you got up from your bed and came down the stairs, with your little sister trailing along behind, touched the hem of my skirt and said that this is one of your favorite skirts I have that actually it is your favorite and breathlessly announced that…

The Daily Turn #4: Naming All the Colors

Naming all the colorsis harder than you think–best if left until the first cup of lavender-grey teahas made its waythrough all five senses. The table is pinkerin the morning(on this kind of morning–a pale wood-rose)than in the dandelion lightof afternoon.And the pink of each morningis a different pinkWhich my daughter seems to know instinctively:Coming down the…