To My Misbegotten Daughters; First Impressions; Pass It Back

To My Misbegotten Daughters

I sigh and rub my eyes

As I review your scattered pages

Wishing to cut ties

With my more capricious ages.

And, yet, here you are,

My misbegotten daughters,

As if waiting at the bar

Oblivious to these bothers.

So, I scan your lines,

Observing your earnest tone

Reflections of times

Perhaps best left alone.

And, yet as I reflect,

There’s really no escaping

The plain and simple fact:

You are all of my making.

Here, approaching first

Is the alexandrine child

On loving declarations nursed

Image upon image piled.

While on her meter

She all but trips

Her prettiest feature

Are her well-meaning lips

A few stools down

Sit the older girls

Sharing a frown

At such obvious pearls

Not for them

Are such restraints

As a syllabic hem

Or romantic feints

But, what they may lack

In overt charms

They give back

In all-embracing arms

Striving to capture in their

Free flowing verses

More emotional fare

Than contrived discourses

Regardless of forms

It’s unfair to label

Your innocent norms

As a sordid fable

For in each is contained

A prior burning passion

Not so ill-conceived

As neglected in non-maternal fashion

The one who’s misbegotten here

Is your mother dear, that is clear.

***

First Impressions

“Hi, my name is ______.”

That little tag meant to guide

strangers towards first contact,

insinuates itself between us.

I cry out mayday in my mind

desperate to avoid the

inevitable reduction of your self

to just a name and a pained smile.

***

Pass It Back

Swept under by a wave of nostalgia,

I consider the things I wish I’d known before.

I stare into the face of my younger self

Desperate to be desired, to be noticed

Hair bright with boxed dye,

Eyes dark with dime store liner,

Skin, a thinly veiled lunar map of anxiety.

I imagine taking her hand gently,

Holding her nervous gaze with my own

And saying:

Loving someone is not the same as being in love

Just as being alone is not the same as being lonely.

*****

Elise Bruce received a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from SUNY New Paltz, where she graduated Summa Cum Laude in 2015. Since then she has been living and working in New Paltz with her fiancé and their feline roomie.