Three Red Hearts

I sewed together three red hearts

A present for my mother in bed

Each one bigger than the last and smaller than the next

Red length of yarn

Attached all of these into

One act of love

From a child whose mother would never release

The sorrow she now felt

 

For soon she would recover

The house begin again to sound

Like routine had taken over

All the children off to school

Like all children do if they do

 

Making sense of the nothingness all about

Three red hearts sewed together

Stitches and symbols of our hearts

Never to be separate

Her three young boys

Never to feel how she felt

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Filed under biographical, Poetry

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