When the going gets tough I get a little tougher
The kind of tough that holds my hand and says “gal, it’s gonna be alright”
These months
I make sure my waves of laughter are in sync with the rising moon inside in of me

I bake sweet cake and ice it with sugary hope
I make sure I steam all the vegetables
to make them –soft enough to chew
So that my body receives nourishment          
and I can make through these days