Hannah

A birthday poem

You arrived ten days late.

Frustrated, swollen, I had no choice but to wait. Even then

your timing was your own.

Infant you,

your own person, germinating inside your own person.

In toddler you, me, myself, and I kernelled,

little fists jammed into overall pockets

seal body fearless in the storm waves off Madaket,

then, at eleven, ferrying your baby sisters, one in each arm, across burning sand,

Assuming a hero’s mantle

that you have never shed,

because I was merely human, though well-intentioned.

My daughter, you are an excellent role model.

My worst mother-nightmare, you faced,

fighting fire with even fiercer fire, and steadier.

In the aftermath,

you rose. You built your house, filled it with meaning, beauty, love,

and opened the door.

Trailblazer,

tell me what you see.