Kathleen
Kathleen
My name
is hers.
Sort of.
Similar yet different
because I am.
Altered,
this strong Irish name for a
weak Sicilian nonna.
Heart it was.
Children’s laughter killed her,
roared his grief.
They grew with guilt.
I, inherited the heart
but I am not weak with
this strong Irish name.
Laughter is medicinal.
I live past her years.
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