18 Days, loss & magic

After a second miscarriage, at 29, I stopped singing; And after an accident that took the life of my grandmother when I was 14, I didn’t cry for another 4 years. And then this year, after the election, I lost the magic. That magic that I managed to protect and cultivate for half a century, inside. Eclipsed by the loss of what it is to be an American… about what it is to be a woman in the year 2016. And yet, last night, on New Year’s Day, it came. It came in the lights that we left on the tree, after we stripped it of noise and color, leaving behind only a handful of ornaments in white and rose and promise.

Snowflakes. Song Birds. Angels…