Daughter
I write about her in poems,
thinking she can be
brought back by songs.
In dreams, she floats around me.
Dreaming, I write poems,
knowing where my child belongs.
Awake, I make coffee, It seems
humming is all around me as if
she can be brought back by song.
During the day, I wander
around, lost, not
knowing where my child belongs.
At night, I hum in my sleep,
searching for my daughter, hoping
to find her in song.
Dreaming or awake, I try to find where
I belong. Maybe in her laughter, a music
to bring her back in song.
I know where my child belongs.
The Minnows and The Woman
We slip across the sand, in and out of the sea.
The waves wash us back with other minnows,
all of us swirling our bodies, swimming
back and forth. We never tire. We do not wish
to be caught in a bucket and used as bait
to catch our sisters and brothers, the bigger
fish. The woman who comes here is filled
with longing. She comes to be with the sea.
We know she will not harm anyone.
Not woman, man, child or fish. She comes
to put her feet in the the surf’s edge, to be
with us, to feel the push, the pull of the ocean
Diana Pinckney, Charlotte, NC, has six collections of poetry, including Hummingbirds & Wine. She is the Winner of the 2010 Ekphrasis Prize, Atlanta Review’s 2012 International Prize and Press 53 Prime Number’s 2018 Award. Her work has appeared in Cave Wall, Arroyo, RHINO, Emrys Journal, The Pedestal Magazine, Green Mountains Review, Willawaw Journal and other magazines and anthologies. Pinckney admits to being very interested in writing persona, and ekphrastic poems, and has led workshops on both forms for the Charlotte Center for the Literary Arts. She is now working again on poems about her daughter.
