Monday, December 5, 2022

Garage Sale

She first named her daughters when they lived 

in her dolls, Jessica, Susanna, Isabella—kissing

each before sleep, holding them all to her chest 

when she prayed sleepy prayers into her pillow.

 

Facing the wall one summer night, she relaxed her 

grip in the lullaby of her breath.  Dad snuck in and

pried those little ones from her protective curl then

distracted her with errands the following morning.  

 

She sobbed when she discovered Mom sold off her

babies.  And yet only five, with arms full of empty,

she knew even then they’d never come home again.  

 

Though all spirits need mothers, some mothers lack 

daughters and sleep to seek them from their dreams

where she and her three adventured the air by quilt 

soaring over grass and across the moon’s wide eye.  

                                                                                    

While she grew, their doll bones remained small.

So she sent their memories back to Heaven, their

souls released to rest beside their Father, Creator. 

                        

She’s blessed now with three precious sons but still 

mourns her unbirthed daughters—reaching for them 

as lonely winds come breathing through her fingers. 

 


Defuncted, September 2022

 

 

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