Screaming
my daughter came out screaming
furious at being forced into the world
maybe she knew something then
in that liminal space between being alive
and whatever it is that comes before
she smiled for me before she smiled for anyone else
(maybe that was the moment she forgot)
i smile for her when I don't bother for anyone else
let her remain oblivious
of the myriad impending oblivions i know lurk
hidden around the corner
or in the crossing of a street
or on the handshake of a stranger
who touched death without knowing it
it's my charge to remember now
and to keep it from her as long as I can
until some love of her own life comes screaming
into whatever the world becomes
Elizabeth Ditty lives in Kansas City, but her mind is often elsewhere. Her prose and poetry can be found in Memoir Mixtapes, L’Éphémère Review, Moonchild Magazine, Tiny Essays, & Black Bough Poetry. She can be summoned with wine, coffee, or enough time for a power nap.