As I read the first line of Eavan Boland’s poem “The Lost Land,” I felt as though I knew exactly what the second line was going to be.  I was almost shocked when I read her second line and saw that it was not what had happened in my own head.  I think that means that I need to write my own “daughters” poem.  I’m not sure where it will take me.  I have been mulling different places to take it for a week or so now.  If I can find a breath between the stacks of grading, I’ll try some exercises to shake it out.  Here, for now, are the first two lines.  The first is stolen from Eavan Boland, and the second is the compulsion line that forced itself out before I could read further in her poem.

I have two daughters.
Their names are Memory and Loss.

Gratitude List:
1. Autumn breezes.  Thermal delight.
2. Breaking through.
3. Apples.
4. Walking through the doorways.
5. Water.

May the waters flow free for all.  May all people find safety.  May we walk in Beauty.