The day begins, neon tangerinepink sun
rising over big water. The kid loses her last baby tooth.

It is so big and so small in her hand. She tongues
the bloody gap. The street is COVID and Juneteenth,

Black Lives Matter and Pride. This bridge is tear gas
and rainbows, raised fists and people admitting

they didn’t know. The light is full on. I hear her
upstairs, clacking away with her practice butterfly knife.