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The poems
- ordinary poets
- outrage
- love
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- thinking too much
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- reflections
- the light side
Made by Teresa Marrin
© 2010-2012
bed check
The thing with moms is
That you have to check in periodically
Either we call you
Or you call us
But after a while
Maybe minutes, maybe hours
Maybe days
We get twitchy
We want to know where you are
What’s going on
Have to hear your voice
Tell you we love you
And when you die
We can’t check in
We keep waiting
For the phone to ring
The car to drive up
The call for help
Or an update or just to say hi
That’s what I’m missing most right now
Checking in
When you were little
We did bed check
Sometimes (especially for you)
We checked a lot
To make sure you were OK
That you hadn’t hanged yourself
Or smothered or at the very least
Weren’t going to sleep
One of the last times
You saw your little girl
You stood in the bedroom door
And watched her sleep
That’s what I miss
That’s what I miss
