ShadowBox

I am going to frame

the shadow that was

my loss. There, along the bottom,

my children wave

goodbye. A little higher up runs

a line of song we used to know.

You sang it in sleep. It stitches the hem

of my mother’s face. See, the door

to my house stands

open and the garden is represented

by a patch of ice. There

are ripples and waves defining

borders and a caption saved

from a fortune cookie. Over

it all is embroidered the map

my youngest drew

of the heart.

 
E-mail: kelleywhitemd@yahoo.com


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