Little Sister, I call into my past
Wondering what
To reveal should she answer.
None comes.
Did I speak the right name?
Is she rather,
Hard work and self-sacrifice,
A parent of me?
This I ponder,
Comforted in the pains of my labour
Giving birth to my future self.
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2 Comments
Oh, I like this poem, Bea.
The last two lines are tremendously hopeful.
Lovely, Bea.
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