One Last Magic Charm for You, Barbara
Mother-Sonnet # 3
A pocket with the tooth that made her cry
A dusting of the glamorous she was
A locket with the answer to your "why?"
A humming of your daddy's city buzz
The imprint of yourself the porch swing kept
Two phone calls from the neighbors in a box
A feather from the pillow where you slept
The trailing thread from all your bobby socks
A secret knowledge that you were adored
The screeching of the disappearing years
And then, all piled up in a secret hoard
Her wild and tidy hopes for you and fears
To catch you when you fall, and fall, and fall -
To make your childhood happy after all
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