TO HADASSAH (I)

There are days you will find me quiet, my love.
You will find my eyes glossed over,
And when you softly say “Mama?”
I will blink firmly and the well will overflow.
And though a part of me would like to shield you from such a sight,
A larger part knows better.

There are days you will hear my sobs
Before you turn the corner to find me hunched over,
Shoulders shaking, breaths taken in long, loud drags.
My sighs will fall heavily before they dissolve into relief,
And your world might be rocked to see strength make way for grief,
But you would have learned, Hadassah my dear,
That there’s always room for cathartic tears.

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