Daughtersong
I woke up this morning, lost daughter, bathed in the waters of grief 
I pulled poppies and sweet grass, manzanita branches over my head 
I let the soft dirt inhale me, into dark earth’s ribcage I burrowed
I woke up this morning, daughter gone feral, wailing lamentation
drinking the waters of grief, submerging myself in its quiet 
drifting into the place where I could dream of my mother dreaming of me 
my father once flew away, and now my mother has gone
hear my abandoned hatchling song—I trill, an orphan in mourning 
and every morning, I am dying to rest my mother here with me 
to break the surface of grief’s waters, to curl my body in its cool mud
to weave novena into roots and ampalaya vines, find mourning doves
to nest her beneath her lemon tree, into the soil rich with tea leaves 
coffee grounds in the mulch, so much mint bright and creeping 
this morning, inside her garden’s wild green heart, please let her sleep
Copyright © 2004–2021 Memorious