winterpoem #5
our children remind
us of stories
we never should
have forgotten
how could I have
left a small child
in front of city
day school in the
bitter double digit
wind chill not
checking that she
got inside how
when she found
the doors locked
she stumbled
the several blocks to
the hillistad house
by the park it
wasn’t her
neighborhood sheltering
often behind trees
to keep from
freezing how
the bishop’s wife
fed her hot soup
how she spent the day
playing with the
many hillistad kids
and basking in the
warmth of carol’s
love don’t you
remember mom I
begin to and from
this distance bless
carol dead too young
from cancer for
being there enfolding
my little one
I oblivious was
at work I presume
© Jacqueline Jackson 2008
This article appears in Feb 19-25, 2009.
