watercolor blossoms

i am trying
not to panic
as the paints
run rivulets
down the page

as lemon yellow
and cadmium red
meet and mingle
turn into whatever
orange that is

i am learning
to go with the flow
of pigment on paper
let colors bloom
where they will


i try to name you
to explain myself
when i should
just accept
that for now
you are here
and i am glad

one more

your daughter laughs
at my silly jokes
the way you do
without reserve
in spite of herself
and i am grateful
to have experienced
two generations of
the sweetest sounds
but am greedy enough
to want to know
at least one more


my mother’s left arm
is longer than her right
there is an extra crease
on the inside of her elbow
about half an inch
from the usual one
that she used to say
the elders used to say
was the site of attachment
of a fully formed limb
to an endless arm
in a previous life

i listened to her tales
and afterward contorted
my body searching
all my joints for a similar
sign of connection