The Pacific sunset refracted—
Long shadows and golden reds.
Her daughter made a sandcastle
And she felt a lump on her breast.
Home showering, cupping,
The sedated memory of
The extracted reason why
Her husband left her (alone).
Her little girl
Tied a handkerchief
On her head
Like her mother,
And played tickle-tickle with the knot of skin
At the end of the scar,
Above her mom’s heart.
Mid-day while knitting she recalled
Her surgeon’s name, put down her needles,
And kicked at shadows and the wind.
Her little girl twirled, thinking her mom was dancing.
Cosimo Giovine 