when a nine-year-old
cannot recall her mother’s face
the shape of it
the smell of it
the softness of it  

when a nine-year-old
cannot recall her mother’s voice
the pitch of it
the pentatonic of it
the passing tone of it  

when a nine-year-old
cannot recall her mother’s body
to shield her
from the one
she is now to call mama       

***The title of this poem is a line from Lucille Clifton’s poem Memory