my daughter Micah makes Kanais sound like ice cream
sandwiches freefalling from
grubby fingers mid-recess
on her tongue.
this second grade boy reduces the ringing
bells of her 6 year old voice to
ghost with a casual I don’t care about what you’re talking about.
her responding scream firecrackered
through the shrinking tunnel
I find her in the “peace” corner with
flag pole triumphing tall in her
spine. she says I wouldn’t say sorry. I wanted to make him care. I bet he cares now.
months later when he
tells her she’s less velvet
ribbon, more racing toys
trucks across shiny gym floor,
and he likes her after
all, she glows vibrant as fluorescent
“open” sign. hula dancers stretch
across her cheeks and shimmy
all the way home.
I tell her she was always
sunset on arid nights; that she
was dancing flames before he
named her electric.
her tiny hands only have space
for his compliment. she offers
Brittany Rogers happily juggles the roles of mother, wife, poet, educator, and mentor on a daily basis. Brittany is currently a member of the Freshwater WordSmith Slam team, which will be competing at the National Poetry Slam in August 2016. She has poetry forthcoming in Eunoia Review.