Memories That Serve No One Now

Her mahogany mind Linger through memories That serve no one now, Except her. A broken chair, mother sliding down A wall, bloody forehead. Watching the Light leave her eyes. Grandparents lost. She dared not Mention them anymore. Knowing her father’s wrath, understanding She is vulnerable now more than ever. Her eyes met his. He gave her a harder look Than expected. She knew she had her mother’s eyes. Something wrong? He asked. No, Daddy, she said, Taking her cue from her mother who is always Here in spirit now, consoling her. She closed her eyes that night, anxious to Get started on the memories, knowing they Would eventually disappear, but they Were here now, and they were enough.