Yesterday I searched 

for a way to merge 

the disparate lanes 

of motherhood

One, where I didn’t miss a thing. 

And this. 

Compressing the moments between 

Sundays and Wednesdays

into memories. 

Quickly, 

before the custody clock ticks away. 

When I want to feel sad 

and proud

I return to old videos 

where my daughters are themselves

and I am all theirs.

Lucy’s lanky legs dangling

from the edge of my old bed. 

Radiant as she sings 

and strums guitar.

Annie Rose spinning 

on the beach, arms extended 

in inherent grace.

Today I am thankful 

for movies 

and brief exchanges.

Both remind me

They once were 

and still are 

mine.