hunched on a hard chair
in an airless room,
I cupped my head
in my hands and wept

to save his life
they would saw
through his breastbone,
his chest as small
as my open hand—
stop his heart,
rebuild the inside
staple him shut

a presence beside me
her hand a mere moth
dusting my arm
she murmured,
here—for you
offering a fresh-lit
Marlboro bearing
her kiss of lipstick
I accepted the gift

glancing up, four
others—all mothers,
us, too, one said

9 thoughts on “camaraderie

  1. Kay Crista

    You blew my heart open with this one – and the photo – those eyes, those angel bow lips. Oh honey, “a thing for fools this love. A holy thing this love”


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