Excuse

For nine months,

you take the time to know

her name, mutter it even in your sleep.

Say it aloud to bring her into being.

Practice what to call her

when the time is right.

When she comes to town,

she breaks every bough of tree,

uproots your home whole

mauling the gardenia garden

deforming the green truck left out to rust.

As you leave her,
you think

This is why she is the child you refused to get to know

the one you let go

never raised,

the rogue and raging.