Sierra Rose

Right 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.