My Mother’s Gift
Her superpower
is
her eyes—shut
so tightly against all she cannot
bear to see, her lower
lashes have curled inward toward
a world of her
making. She sends dispatches—
slow smiles, a laugh, sometimes my
name.
3 thoughts on "My Mother’s Gift"
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Hello, Pauletta! A strong connection.
. . .this pierces places we all want to protect. . . how well you wrote it down for us.
Bruce
This image at the poem’s center took my breath away:
“… her lower
lashes have curled inward toward
a world of her”