Each day, I give thanks for the unknown and unexplained.
My Mother Saved Our Baby Shoes
My mother saved our baby shoes,
two handfuls of wedding rice in delicate nets,
flowers, roses, brittle stems,
in her cedar chest.
And in all her years of not remembering,
I wonder which she forgot the best.
I wonder which she smiled at when she sat here dreaming
in her make-believe and present-tense.
And which sighs of hers were snowflakes,
and which heartbeats were regrets.
And I wonder if she somehow knows, or asks,
and if she laughs at this.
Categories: New Poems & Pieces