My Name Is Not Mavis

Quartets of Surrender

I stopped. Trying.
And surrendered.
Like the flight of birds
Pulled to a distant hope.

I stopped. Trying.
And surrendered.
The long death rattle of control
Finally expiring.

I stopped. Trying.
And surrendered.
To the wild rain, low clouds,
Sudden wind, pulling moon.

I stopped. Trying.
And surrendered.
Funny how the world spun on
Most unexpectedly.

I stopped. Trying.
And surrendered.
Each breath enough.
Each breath the last.

The weight of waiting:
For a lover’s text
A biopsy result
A pear to ripen
A daughter to forgive

A Few Things I Want My Girls to Know:

Rage can be tender.
And said with the right finesse,
A firmly placed “fuck you very much”
Can serve you well.

Soft is always an option
As long as your spine is straight and long,
Pointed towards the sky
Like an arrow being called home.

And when you look in the mirror
Count all the ways you are beautiful
And the world will bow at your feet.

No person—male or female, mother or sibling,
Boss or friend—is worthy of
Bridling your truth
So let it rip like a streaking
Star across the daylight sky.

Coyotes yipped in a frenzy that
Bordered on deranged,
Waking me from a dream where I forgot
To love you in the house of our first marriage.
You didn’t forgive me then either,
As I held the hammer in my hand
Surprised it was there,
Breaking up the sound of
Distant wildness calling me to be free.

Are your days a series of mini love stories
Strung together like Christmas lights
Illuminating the dark evenings just enough
So the ferocious loneliness, a constant bedfellow,
Doesn’t eat you in the night?