Today I'm filled with vague impressions, the fleeting imprint of beautiful things. The song in my ear with the orchestral intro, sensual and melodic in a way that makes me want to climb inside the vibrating cavern of the upright bass. Flowering daisy tea on a mahogany counter. The careful way he ducks his head and smiles at me, laughing at himself and the moment. Gold light reflecting off the river, filtering through pale benches that look to be made of bone but are really just stone. Globe-topped black gas lamps already on and glowing orange, casting little light but looking stately and elegant all the same. The last gilt edge of sunset along the horizon, a foreground of parking lot all in blue with highlights of gold and two punked out teenagers kissing on the generator even though it's bitingly cold out and they aren't wearing jackets. Flying west above me, a last flock of ducks heads out of the city before the chill of March sets in. And finally, the silver moon luminous in a cobalt sky. I know who my mother is.