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If My Middle Name Was Trijntje
if my middle name was Trijntje
the bony letters would smush together
like a hug from my Nana and Opa
Trijntje is the softness of
fabric from Nana’s sewing room
cradled in my arms
Trijntje is the cannonball boom of
Opa’s laughter
striking my heart
Trijntje would unlock a door
i’ve never opened
would connect me to aunts
i barely know
would live in that cabin in the mountains
in the woodpile and barn and bedroom nook
in the peaks and valleys of the land
arms open to welcome me home
My middle name is not Trijntje
it’s Lynn
but i’m beginning to unearth
it’s quiet beauty
like an amethyst unveiled
like a soft-smelling flower
unfurling in my palm
Lynn means lake
like the one in the mountains
where i used to swim
Lynn
is a soft whisper
over glassy water
Lynn
is a quiet exhale
before the starting gun
Lynn
is the soft strum of a church guitar
and the warmth of a blanket in rumbling storms
Trijntje is a bouncing strain
a verse to a song
my lineage has sung
But Lynn is a soft hum
the beginnings of a piece
that I will compose
Lynn is not Dutch but
Lynn is a beating heart
and my heart does not beat alone
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I'm half Dutch, and I've always wanted a Dutch middle name as a connection to that side of my family. But while I was writing this poem I started to understand the beauty of the middle name my parents gave me.