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Beauty Is Fleeting
I had a lovely beauty mark on the knuckle of my right hand. My whole life I secretly admired it, along with a soft brown spot along the base of my palm. I imagined that if a palm reader were reading my palm they would point these two spots out as my sun and moon,… Continue reading
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Googa’s Lullaby
This is a song to help Naima Louise to go to sleep (x2) You don’t need to scream and cry ’cause you know that your mama’s nearby your crib is soft and dry so Naima pleaseee go to sleeeeep This is a song to help Naima Louise to go to sleep (x2) I’ll sing you… Continue reading
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Fast and Late Poem about Utterson, Ontario
Utterson was unassuming? It was the Muskokas but not THE MUSKOKAS. But you were golden enough as it was, your slicked body slipping through the dark lake that gave birth to you over and over as you wiped down your face and said “The water’s fine” Later you would take magic mushrooms around the fire… Continue reading
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Sheba
Sheba is my sister. She’s older, but we’ve never noticed. We always stayed up late together and laughed until we cried before she moved out. When she left, I saved up all my funny stories and told them to myself until she’d come home one weekend, full of her own funny stories. She is warm… Continue reading
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Walking In April
Crocus and snowdrops are the suckling pigs this spring, coming up fat and hot in the April sun. I watch as a squirrel carries in his mouth the lifeless body of a bird, deflated like a month-old balloon. He didn’t make the kill, that’s obvious—it’s just some poor old sparrow that died his own way… Continue reading
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Observations: Andre In The Dark
When I can’t sleep I see Andre in the dark. Some people see other things because they’re in other beds, living other lives. Except for maybe our daughter, Naima, but she’s only two months old and technically speaking her vision is still fairly undeveloped so she doesn’t see Andre in the dark, she just sees… Continue reading
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Singing Infants and The Last Song
I’ve been thinking lately of a connected sequence of things, the first being, that Naima, now two months old, has begun to sing. She shows a strong preference for the following songs: Wild Is The Wind by Nina Simone (but sung by me)The Littlest Birds by The Be Good Tanyas (but sung by me)The Wind… Continue reading
children, dailyprompt, family, grief, journal, life, love, memoir, mother, motherhood, music, relationships, singing, womanhood -
Growing Old
Gardenia Are the whitest white you’ve ever seen, Except for the hairs escaping my brain To surface slowly on my head Like the last ever flowers Of a dying earth. Continue reading
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Never Come Empty-Handed, and Other Life Lessons
I don’t know where I truly learned it from, although I originally attributed the gracious wisdom to my Persian father and my categorically Mediterranean mother…but having now known them in later life, I don’t think this was their strong suit. Perhaps they picked up flowers once or twice, to impress, but my dad showed up… Continue reading
About Me
A poet living in Ontario. Mostly works of memoir and poetry that focus on motherhood, womanhood, and relationship to self.