for my mother

It is Yours

I wish you were here with me.
I miss your smile.
But I can see it every day
when Calvin looks up at me
with that toothy, dimpled grin.
It is an angel’s smile,
and it is yours.

I wish you were here with me.

I miss your hugs.
But I can feel them every day
when Calvin holds my neck
and presses his cheeks to mine.
His face is soft and warm,
and it is yours.

I wish you were here with me.
I miss stroking your hair.
But I can touch it every day
when I hold Calvin’s head in my hand
so gently when he sleeps.

His hair is fine and smooth,

and it is yours.

My mother, Harriette, as a schoolgirl