Happy Birthday, Daughter
Published in
1 min readJul 25, 2017
(for Alyssa, January 17)
You were born in winter’s cold:
snow chased and pushed us on
just in time to push you out
(the wind pushed, not your mom).
We joked about Macbeth’s McDuff.
Untimely ripped you were from her:
small but hardy, strong enough
to subdue the tyrant who
tried to stop the moving wood
or the wind who gave you birth.
To support the poet’s benign coffee addiction: Coffee.
