For Mara
The begonia survived the winter wind
Smashing its pot on the porch
Bits falling down the stairs like a slinky
Heading toward the bottom
Picked up by the root ball and
Introduced to a new home
Beneath the Australian fern
And the wandering palm
Blooming in the courtyard
Pink between glossy leaves
That will last past winter
Much like the way I’ve accommodated
My history to this place, replanting
My body in his bed, warm beneath layers
Of covers, each morning waking
To a soft mist and a pair of orange
Orioles sipping nectar from a headress of flowers.
I met you two hours after you were born
Wrapped in a tortilla’s worth of blankets,
An infant with bloodlines from three continents
Who rests in my arms registering
First wonderment at every leaf and flower.
I count all ten of your toes
A soft intelligence in your bright eyes
Stirring to the world.