letter to my transgender daughter
I made soup tonight, with cabbage, chard
and thyme picked outside our back door.
For this moment the room is warm and light,
and I can presume you safe somewhere.
I know the night lives inside you. I know grave,
|2017||Millay’s Hair||Ann Townsend|
|2017||from “The Last Bohemian of Avenue A”||Yusef Komunyakaa|
|1907||Song||T. S. Eliot|
|2017||Hours Days Years Unmoor Their Orbits||Rachel Zucker|
|2017||A Valley View||Kathleen Ossip|
|2017||Some Rights||Jillian Weise|
|1991||my father moved through dooms of love||E. E. Cummings|