Your
letter was there
among
other documents
in the
safe box -- to be given
as the
first rites on Mother's Day.
The
script like the script
of
your face - beautiful and perceptive.
Written
ten years before your death,
you
somehow knew
which
words needed to fly
in the
evening sun , the blue shimmer
of
swallows circling round
the
uncertain child.
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