Dawn Comer
What happened next?
Mommy, what happened next?
she begs, wanting
for story,
an end. But
I have no
context,
know no
story.
Morning but my daughter’s eyes
flit, seeking shadows
in sunlight.
Mommy, what happened next?
Morning and my eyes
stare, settling
into love-heart
pillow, bright pink
against dull blue
carpet. Cast off
casualty of nighttime.
And then I understand.
Lucy, did you dream? Did you see
a story in your sleep?
Baby crying, Lucy says.
Baby crying in daddy’s office.
Purple sucker in daddy’s office.
And then,
Elliot angry.
Baby crying.
And me not needing
to hear Lucy
but still she says her name
as if it is not even
hers.
Lucy baby crying in daddy’s office. Elliot angry. Lucy baby have purple sucker.
Mommy!
Mommy, what happened
next?
Her first shared dream an ache in my gut.
I have no
words, no
end, no
power, no
way
to make it all
turn out
alright.
Only an ache from feeling
from the inside
for the first time
my daughter’s soul.
Oh, Sweetie.
And I pull close
the slender strong
body of this child
who never flinches
during meltdowns, waits
patiently as parents “deal with”
a brother whose difference is
only what she has always
known.
Is only who he is.
Oh, Sweetie.
And I wish Hello Kitty flannel
comfort could go
deeper than skin
Oh, Sweetie, I don’t know.
I couldn’t see your story.
Older sister to her older brother,
3T pajamas hiding the age
of her soul.
Morning light stays.
The scary goes.
Baby have a purple sucker.
Lucy baby have purple sucker in daddy’s office.
Elliot have purple sucker too!
