Holly Day, 7/12

My Daughter

she rolls over and sighs in her sleep
such a tiny, slight sound
but it fills my whole head.
a song of distant cherubs
the sound of the sun rising.

reaches for me in the
dark, chubby hands
grappling out in search of my older
worn palms, fingers that feel
purposeless without

her. when did this happen
this point in my life
where all I
ever wanted was
to have her?

   Brand New

I threw away
everything that came
before he
was in
my life so
I could pretend
that I was brand new
just like the baby
I held in
my arms, just
like the perfect
baby that somehow
came out of me



Holly Day is a housewife and mother of two living in Minneapolis,
Minnesota. Her poetry has recently appeared in Hawai’i Pacific Review, The
Oxford American, and Slipstream. Her book publications include Music
Composition for Dummies, Guitar-All-in-One for Dummies, and Music Theory for
Dummies, which has recently been translated into French, Dutch, Spanish,
Russian, and Portuguese.

Promote. Poetry.
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