Renee Nicole Good’s Wife Said “She Was Made of Sunshine”
I want the privilege of growing
A topographical face
Rivers on my forehead
For my opinions to paddle in.
Avian tracks from my
Years of squinting in sunshine.
I want my head showing
Everyone the silver linings
I’ve tried so hard to convince
Myself of.
My moon eyes
Won’t wane
To the horrors
The news
Isn’t telling us
I’ll stay full and
Let the tragedies
Crater me.
I want the privilege of laugh lines
Blending over scowl lines
Until I can’t blame
My circumstances.
I want the privilege of being forced
To accept
That that’s just
What cheeks do
Forgive you
By softening
Into what’s affected you.
I want the privilege of exhausting
My body
From playing
With my child.
I want my popping joints
To be heard
As loud as my prayers
For every mother
To be snuggled.
I want the privilege of growing
a topographical face.
I want the wisdom
Of the map key
That comes from
All this suffering
And loving.
I am a poet and mother living in Fort Collins, Colorado. I like open mics, museums and mossy green places.