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  • Child

    you have left your mark
    
on the sidewalk
    
where I passed
    
tonight

    a small hand
    
half the size of now
    
pressed deep 
into wet grey mud

    your name 
scratched
    
in the cement’s surface

    where we held hands

    and walked to school



    Mother

    I look at my hand
    
and see yours aging
    
resting side by side

    with mine
    
on the green tablecloth

    where I took our picture
    
my skin

    not so supple
    
as it was when
    
you were still here

    

Baby
    
I watched the nurse
    
press your tiny hand

    into black ink
    
marking your brief life
    
on a fresh white card
    
I make a photograph
    
as she peels

    your silent fingers
    
to show me

    you have left

    your mark
    
on my world
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