Thanks to everyone who gave feedback on what the next project should be. 99 days of poetry has commenced on Instagram, now through October 31. If you want to instafollow, find me @mamezirro or search #99lines.
These are the hands I raise to heaven
When I thank God for you.
These are the hands that will guard your heart,
Hold your face when I kiss you,
Wipe away your every tear,
Fold in prayer for you,
These are the hands.
This is part of a poem I wrote fourteen years ago, shortly after my first son was born. Unearthed today in the midst of a search for something else.
Our littlest friend is in kindergarten with the most amazing teacher, Ms. K.
She is angelic. She calls the class her friends. Not “students,” not “boys and girls,” not “people,” (I had a teacher once who called us “people” in a way that suggested we were something else) but “friends.”
Every week we get a friendly email about K’s Kids, often with sweet pictures of the friends reading books, enjoying treats earned for good behavior, participating in sports.
Last week our littlest friend brought home a Manila envelope labeled “Top Secret Homework for Parents!” Inside was a giant blank heart for us to design as a secret valentine for said friend.
Punk and I agreed on the Coldplay lyrics, “You’re a sky full of stars… I’m gonna give you my heart.” It’s what we’ve set as our 8:26 AM alarm each weekday. Time to get backpacks and lunches and snow gear in order and head for the bus stop.
The littlest friend has been singing along every morning since the beginning of September. Sometimes when the song comes on the radio at other times, he’ll joke, “Oh! Time to get ready for school!”
Happy Valentine’s Day, littlest friend. We give you our hearts.
The idea came to her at dinner.
She felt reticent to excuse herself.
“I’ll remember,” she told herself
But of course she did not.
Plagued through dessert
Through after dinner games.
What was it?
Finally the guests dispersed
And she had opportunity
To revisit the table.
She sat in the same seat
Imagined her table mates—
Arrestingly handsome there
Wittily remarkable there—
Banged her bruised forehead into polished walnut
Mourning the lost thought
Until arrestingly handsome touched her shoulder lightly
And with “Such a lovely dinner”
Lured her away from the sad reverie
To an even better idea
She had also missed.