This morning was one of those mornings when I felt  

distance, between my daughters and me. Now

an ocean away, now living lives I follow on Instagram.

With people I don’t know. How strange

to hold a being inside, to feel that first kick to the ribs

(a sign that life is becoming) and then, 

to release them to the world. This morning

was one of those mornings when I felt the emptiness

of the black-sky, too early even for the birds. 

This morning a longing with no name gnawed,

and I thought maybe, if only I could find words. Today

I sat, grabbed my laptop, and there it was. A photo

I hadn’t seen in years. My not yet three-year-old oldest child, 

twenty years ago, drinking chocolat chaud. Back 

when we lived in Paris. Back before she didn’t know 

what language she spoke, back when we had afternoon dates

to museums or gardens, to ride carousels and watch puppet shows.

To buy purple balloons and chase pigeons, pretend we could fly

and sometimes we would just ride the bus. Stare

out the window and she’d scream, maman look, it’s the awfull tower! 

Or, regarde Maman, it’s the statue of Curious George Washington!

I’d laugh at her adorableness. And hold her so tight. And she’d

ask me questions; like can spiders walk on water? and 

what is divorce? the name of an ugly picture we saw at the Musee d’Orsay, 

and I tried to explain but she couldn’t understand how love could disappear. 

But the best part of every date was the end, when we’d make our way

to some café for a croissant and chocolat chaud. And quickly she learned

how to hold the porcelain pieces in her little girl hands, how

to pour the liquid chocolate, then add cream, and her signature touch—

adding every sugar cubes she could find. And she would drink

the whole pitcher of chocolate and whole pitcher of cream and crunch

on the sugar cubes. I never intervened. Only sometimes, 

secretly sipping first, to make sure it wasn’t too chaud.

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Dr. Tara W. Zafft is most recently Winner of the Moonlit Getaway Poetry Prize. She has published her work in the anthology, Rumors Secrets and Lies, Poems about Abortion, Pregnancy and Choice, Write-Haus, Aether Avenue Press, The San Diego Poetry Annual, Vita and the Woolf Literary Journal, and Dumbo Press. She has a BA in Russian Literature from UC San Diego and Ph.D. in Modern Languages from the University of Bath, UK.  In addition, Tara regularly teaches poetry workshops.