For My Daughter On a Bad Day
by Kate Baer
Life will rough you up. Throw you to the
shore like a wave crashing - sand in your
hair, blood in your teeth. When grief sits
with you, hand dipped with rage, let it
linger. Hold its pulse in your hands. There
is no remedy for a bad haircut or ruined
love like time. Even when death is coming,
even when the filth rises in the back of
your throat -
this is not the worst of it. And if it is?
Listen for the catbird calling. No matter
the wreckage, they still sing for you.
