yesterday

I was in Alaska.
Abraham was giving up his son.
He was sleeping in his car.
Mom's insides were crying.
despite chaos,
Father was watching. waiting. smiling.

we were determined despite constant failure.
hearing and not listening.
unintentionally fishing and throwing back.
it was all for a reason.
they agreed on us, they disagreed, they agreed.
He knew.

yesterday
I was beginning to build a home of people.
like you have to do now.
lonely living in the same home as each other and now?
I know there is hope for you.
adoption was sure and her eyes were bright.
[they will be again, I'm praying.]

and he was one years old. and did not yet know my face with my name.
I was beginning to build a home of people.
T sent me a travel journal.
I did not know him as I do now. I do now.
Jana was a becoming the poet she is now.
K was learning many things about sisters. as was I.
E and I were discussing boogers on the underside of car-seats.
it started there.

and
happiness at times tried to tap me on the shoulder and I'd flinch and pull away.
now, I invite him in for tea.