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singing and swinging:one day we’ll touch the heavens

A giggle  of delight escaped her, she flung her brown hair back and looked up to see my reaction. Her eyes glittered and a smile stretched across her face.

We were playing school with felt giraffes and stuffed owls.

on the cold floor in the yellow room

a small pocketed quilt lay out at our feet

she impressed me with her knowledge of math and division, she must have learned from mum.

mum was teaching her now

soft voice flowing down the hall, mixed with steam and the smell of dove soap

mum was praising him, the steady stream of water making harmony with her melody, humbly lifting her voice to the heavens.

even in this storm of lightning bolt decisions and thunder clouds of blurred vision

my mother praised him, she thanked him

she let him now she was ‘his daughter.’

I remember this lesson as we swung on swings in the afternoon sun

giggling the same delighted giggle

this time laughing at brother with long legs twisted in a child’s toy bouncing back and forth

gangly and awkward

I remember how sister had shown us what she had learned moments before we left our house

In those moments she had brought us back to the father

we joined in a circle in the kitchen and prayed,

prayed for guidance

prayed for the family

we swang

i thought on this,

I pointed my toes to the heavens

and felt mums song swishing around my moccasins

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2 responses

  1. painfully beautiful. how well you write, girl.

    October 17, 2010 at 8:27 pm

  2. love this so much.

    October 23, 2010 at 3:54 pm

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