Daughters
My stillborn daughter
disappeared for thirty years.
When finally I named her,
learned to mourn,
women the age she would have been
began to show up in my life
bearing other names
and other faces.
Some of them would joke
and call me “Mom.”
I’d laugh with them, imagining
I heard that unheard voice.
I loved them all
like daughters.
Maureen Eppstein has three poetry collections: Earthward (Finishing Line Press), Rogue Wave at Glass Beach (March Street Press) and Quickening(March Street Press). Her poetry has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Originally from Aotearoa/New Zealand, she now lives on the Mendocino Coast of California. Her website is www.maureeneppstein.com.
