for Thyra Louise
Silence sings improbable songs.
Dancing through yesterday’s news
it imprints thunder between my ears.
A bomb propels BBs and nails.
as traumatic amputations,
other places’ normal nightmares,
navigate American soil.
The thunder intensifies
and my heart rate quickens
when I think of you in DC
signing patriotic songs on the steps
of the Lincoln Memorial.
A mantra for your safe return
covers the battlefields, theaters,
museums, and government facilities
that fill your itinerary between feasts
at high profile restaurants.
Be safe.
Have fun.
Come home.
All the while my hands flutter in the air
letting you know I love you,
and love means giving you wings.
Brenda Warren 2013
undercaws 
Parenthood was ever thus. I think the letting go is very hard for us, but the young take it in their stride. However, that doesn’t stop us fretting. Great poem.
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Thank you, Viv.
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Love gives her wings, indeed… I know all about bad timing and Riley’s trips. She has gone through some trials in LA but learns from each misstep. Thank you for acknowledging that what is routine for many countries makes the 24-hour news cycle in the US. We should cover Iraq and Afghanistan half as well, especially when our drones hit people besides the “intended target.” Thanks for a great Wordle, Brenda. I’ve been frustrated of late, as the words danced, taunting me, but I seem to be in a better place now!
LOVE your huge crow. Makes your blog all the more distinctive! Amy
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Thank you for your support and understanding, Amy. That second stanza needed to be there. The drone strikes are horrible. The world can certainly be a dark place. One of our jobs is to cast some light about, eh? It’s good seeing you, Amy. Keep your chin up. We need to keep shining on.
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Another horrific disaster, this time in Boston. I’m glad you chose to write about it. I hope your daughter was still excited about her trip. Did she go with her class?
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Thank you, Marianne. She is there with Expressions of Silence, a performing group composed of deaf and hard of hearing young people. They perform songs in American Sign Language.
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I can see your fluttering hands filled with love for that darling girl of yours…………..fluttering to let go and love all the while…………nice piece of work you are!
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Thank you, Story Mom.
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Thyra is in D.C.? Oh, heavens, Brenda. You must be beside yourself. This world has become so unsafe. But we can’t live in a cave that we never exit, can we? A lovely poem to your daughter indeed.
Pamela
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She’s on her way there right now. Thank you for your concern and support. The trip is bad timing. But you are right, we can’t live in a cave, that lets the bad guys win. This trip has been planned for several months.
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