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Click hereRight now, the sun is up.
The trumpet vines
outside
are blooming red bells
with hummingbird bowties.
All I can think about is
how my daughter has
never heard my voice,
will never hear her father
like I did
feel safe
like I did.
You don't curse the ones you love,
especially if you're the curse.
Her mother was right.
I wanted to name her
Evening,
after the color of how
I felt about her,
when I first heard.
She was named
for Spanish mountains,
red flowers.
The idea of it
makes me shake
until ashes flake down
on the ground.
Wonderful description of emotions that are right on the surface but yet remain buried.
Wonderful use of color, DA. I'm not sure I got the anguish you feel for its misuse in the second stanza, though.