My earliest memory
Soft yellow lamplight lit my mother's face.
She sat in an armchair, silent tears streaming down.
I sat in her lap and handed her a tissue.
--
Later, I knew.
My sister came too soon.
Her tiny hand
Her tiny heart
The beat of it upon my mother's breast.
Forty-five minutes of breath.
A life cut short on a Thanksgiving in Minnesota.
https://oc.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9chqg4/what_becomes/e5avvk8/
Posted Sep 3, 2018, 4:16 AM UTC · edited
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