Tuesday July 4, 2017
At the time I didn’t think I chose a side.
How could I,
twenty five years later,
(writing that makes me feel something wide)
I realize the tent of a womb
is never far from the heart of a daughter.
I’ve always believed myself to be
sense of right and wrong right on the
tip of my tongue
my spirit soaring fire and water
in equal measure.
Maybe it’s the confusion of a young
circling Mom’s legs
caught locked out
in a downpour.