By Gloria Wimberley

Filled her wooden name
puzzle with jacinth juice
then gingerly poured out the liquid
(to her, a magic elixir)
into a plastic Cinderella
teacup of water
and then back into her empty
puzzle space (the four letters of her name
in primary colors scattered nearby)
As she sat on splayed towels on the kitchen tile
concentrating on her concoction,
art and alchemy
became birds of the same wing
My baby girl
all smiles and purpose
showed me we
can fill up our names
our identities
with meaning
no matter how fluid
or murky

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