Doing life together

Another crumpled sheet on the floor
your fist a heart curling with rage
hair a bird’s nest
tears smudging an impossible question

Six years ago (six months ago, too)
your tiny hands cupped my wet cheeks
after I skinned my knees running 
too fast for life’s perils:
love, unpaid dues, this lonesome parenthood

Your lips hushing me: 
I am here for you, Mama
I nodded
and so will I
whenever you need me

So today, I sit next to you
thumb your anger away, 
put your book on my lap and ask,
What can we do 
to make this better?

Happy birthday, Lia.