I have the same wonder for stars as my Mother, knowing there's one for each of us of the stars we are She said with each navel God proclaimed You're done! with a celebratory twist of her finger to coil the cord tight I asked her how did she know it was me, knowing at the time I was somehow destined to be her baby, less knowing of the biology of how such could be so, imagining myself lost in a sea of babies in bassinets, her face pressed against a glass trying to find me And my Mother simply said You smiled in my head are many stars Chagall 2020
Tag Archive: Mother
At work I’ve insisted
that my team be staffed
with nothing but ladies
of beautiful color
Our primary mission:
To rock any world
we encounter
Chagall 2015
When I was small you took my hand, led me to distant places
around the corner and up the block
You carried me so I grew to know
the spiral of your ear and the curls about it
Your smelled of taffy, salt, and wind,
as a newborn I’d mistake that for the contour of your cheek
Senses ran together then
before words but after sound
Essentially
once upon a time
© Chagall 2014
In February 1987
before she passed, I asked her to narrate her recipes
and I would scribe.
To the day almost
these decades later, family is over and I cook her favorites
almost to a tee.
Our love
that winter dormant for so long returns
emerges as seedlings.
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 