04/05/2020

Poem

By Ameliasb

His fingernails hold the edge of the newspaper,

long nail beds with tiny ridges, neatly trimmed.

They are the fingernails I remember on his mother,

holding her morning banana

as she sliced it into a bowl of milk.

About Ameliasb

daughter, sister, wife, mom, early childhood specialist, creator of poems, photos and sweaters View all posts by Ameliasb
This entry was posted on Sunday, April 5th, 2020 at 8:18 pm and posted in Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

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