Overly familiar with her defiance
patterns of fetal alcohol confusion,
neuro-systemic habits of resistance,
I, the consummate ecofeminist,
was sure my daughter felt
I was shutting wounded Ivy out
when she wanted me
to enter her toxic on-line
stream of Sponge Bob consciousness
When she came to me,
in self-care mode,
while I was meditating
reading
reflecting
writing
breathing deeply in,
then out
One gasp for hope
at a new pandemic time,
searching for...
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