Passed along, mother to daughter,
like a rosary of dull beads,
her bad memories haunt me after,
old fears as polished litanies.
Like a rosary of dull beads,
sweat droplets collect in wrinkles;
old fears as polished litanies
swell up in mind, hands, and ankles.
Sweat droplets collect in wrinkles:
“Some anxiety in the night.”
Swelling in mind, hands, and ankles
calls a needled calm, pale and bright.
Some anxiety in the night,
passed along, mother to daughter,
calls a needled calm, pale and bright —
bad memories. They haunt me, after.
Rosefire Rising 