Francesca

I feel like I've known you since first I could read
But I discovered your words tucked neatly on the shelf in my third grade class
a treasure buried next to The Babysitters Club and Nancy Drew
a story so fantastical but a mirror image of emotions too new to understand
and something so. much. more.

I too felt alone in a house too small for so many people
my eyes were grey, where her's were violet
my hair cropped short when her's grew tangled and unbridled
but both of us wondering "what time are we upon, and where do i belong"?

I entered adolescence in a fog of depression lifted only by my imagination.
I sat alone in my room and sang to birds from my window
I drew faces with my fingertip on the rain spattered pane
I tacked up pictures of fairies and braided flowers to crown my hair
I cried in secret about my mother's illness and worried I had driven my bio-dad away by simply existing
And I tried not to be in the way

When I was taller, more filled out, and just beginning to bloom
I fell in love.
I read and re-read Witch Baby's Letter to Angel Juan
and contemplated the existence of Souls and Mates

And when my heart broke I listened to Fiona Apple on repeat
and looked for meaning from Dangerous Angels
There were more than a few.

When I was alone with an infant at my breast
numb with exhaustion  but my heart overflowing. (OVER FLOWING)
we curled up, my Little between my knees, and read about how you guarded the Moon
And I didn't feel alone.

Is it any wonder that your words feel like home?
You've helped shape my world.

Autumn for Maureen

another autumn, my world changing hues
I smiled today and thought of you
your auburn hair and curlicues
how the fall seemed to belong to you
a backdrop crafted to frame your lovely face
your beloved garden resting, blanketed by leaves and spider's lace

I hope your view is clear and true
to watch the earth while it celebrates you.