November 1, 2019

For my mother

Irish laughter, breaking glass,

and where you are now. Perhaps 

in this book?

In the words ‘a figure

glided quietly from 

bed to bed,

smoothing a blanket,

settling a pillow,’ 

every night

naming each of us

in your prayers? About

4:36 AM, I see you on my couch.

A firef...

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Brave: an interview with Nancy Mitchell, Poet Laureate of Salisbury, Maryland continued

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