Singer and writer
Today it is my darlingest daughter’s 7th birthday. I don’t think I could ever love someone more than I love her.
Most years I find myself staying on high alert throughout the night before her birthday in a kind of post-traumatic vigil, a retrospective anticipation of her birth. The body holds trauma in such a way that it can’t tell past from present, and an anniversary or a reminder can whisk one back to the event itself which seems still to be happening, or to a replaying of the narrative.
RETREADING the paths I knew at my morning With those I loved and those I mourn I walked the lake with ice-bound birds And made my camps among the trees And hid behind the solid trunks Of the silent standing figures who Cannot speak but who recall And given voice could tell the tales And… Continue reading Path
I watch you as you sleep And cannot read you in repose. You are still as if painted Somewhere far beyond and out of reach. I count your breaths and see you, Your flickering lids like birds; And I will feed you with my heart And I will hold you with my breath. My tears… Continue reading Madeleine
Suzy Robinson soprano 