a perfect day

she gets up early to go practice her song.

one more time.

before she shares.

she shares it/herself.

the song/she is beautiful.

one wonders how much difference diligence to practicing an art – your art – can make.

.

she notices a quarrel.

she quietly slides into the picture.

offering her lap.

that’s all that was needed.

.

she dances with her brother.

.

she organizes a gathering.

of fun.

of snow.

of simplicity.

.

she studies.

she leans into it.

wrestling with it.

getting it.

not getting it.

.

the day is past its end.

she’s still not done.

so in comes the tone/air/question.

of responsibility.

.

responsibility to what?

school math?

what might she have taken out of her day for that?

.

as a mom, i would choose nothing.

it was a perfect day.

.

but wait.

i’d remove the invisible, yet incredibly loud, omnipresence, of this mandated/assumed responsibility.

it’s hastening a death.

a death i don’t choose for my own.

.

so why are we letting that stay?

why have i not yet removed that?