tonight my daughters held an impromptu dance lesson in the kitchen while I sang on the back step.

I came upon them unawares, and smiled, singing, watching them through the windowed and the screened door. they didn't notice at first but didn't stop dancing when they did see me, and didn't give me much more than an acknowledging smile, intent on their work.

I can't remember what the song was now, the one going into my ears and the variations coming out of my mouth, but the dance they were doing was about two birds, a purple and a green one.


they moved in synchronized and stylized patterns, my littlest daughters in their matching pink pajamas, both of them needing to move up a size, maybe two for the older of them. busy practicing performances to melt their big sister's heart the next time she comes to visit.

they've been learning to serve food, do the laundry and use their best manners. both of them are reading chapter books, though picture books haven't lost their appeal.


it was a sweet moment, an appreciated manifestation of careful, prudent work. and no painting could match it, no paycheck encompass it. I felt a job well done settle on me, pinning me back onto the fabric of the life I've chosen. if I could say one thing to my mother it would be that yes. everything you did right or wrong mattered. it was noticed. it was appreciated. you just left too soon. but it's okay. I still love you. happy mother's day, and I did mean to get you a card, you know how I put things off.

but I wrote you a poem.