Twilight Zone Episode 2a, 1985

September 13, 2013

My girl says I look daily as I lean over the stove
to heat up a pot of black beans. I don’t have to ask.
She told me yesterday daily means pretty.

The lay of the language shifts beneath our tongues.
Words and meaning inch apart by syllables.

On my way to work, the neighbor may mention
his encyclopedia has had a new litter. Midday,
a new colleague could ask, Where’s a good place
to go for dinosaur?

Big sister explains to little the definition of shwab dube.
I don’t interrupt. I pay attention to their ABC.

If she calls me daily again, I will know how to invent
an answer, a mixture of memory and intuition.
No need to brace myself in the doorframe.

September 14, 2013

Dayna Patterson

Dayna Patterson is the editor of Psaltery & Lyre. She received the Dialogue Award for Poetic Excellence for her poem “Eloher,” which won first place in the “A Mother Here” Art & Poetry Contest. Her chapbooks, Loose Threads and Mothering, are available from Flutter Press. She lives in Bellingham, Washington with her husband, Charles, and their two daughters.