Just Between Us

I am good at memory

whispering poems my mother learned

by heart in her orphan home — taps

upon the stage in stiff starched dress

while benefactors swamp the seats

& she recites with apt dramatic

gestures the story of a boy destroyed by flame

waiting for his papa on the burning main

a fearsome tearjerker

& folks clap — eyes glistening, run

to choose among the mingy waifs

& perhaps that baby whose mama

passed in childbirth and papa of tb

— so sad too bad — my mother aged

out at 15 & later when I knew

her out of life having in between bequeathed

me the knife-like secret of poems

rife with dramatic gestures,

About Karen To and Fro

Everything you didn't want to know about me!
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