To Columbus

Down Wexford Green we’ll drive,
I’ll turn a measure slow
And say
That window,
See? The second story?
I counted out those hours of glory
In sways, a pendulum’s measure of
Each breath
Each sigh
Each burp
Each hug
A triumph, then!
A trophy now of memory
So fleeting, how –
It can’t be bought
Or kept, or kept
The pillow-soft rug
That sped me swift
Your cries, so priceless,
Now, no less –
But just a spell, here
In this house.
You’d wrap your fingers round my hair
You pulled sometimes
I didn’t care
Those nights,
You grew up in my arms
How can it be already gone?




3 thoughts on “To Columbus

  1. Amy, this is so beautiful, sharing your heart memories as you loved, fed, and nurtured Elise. That room is “holy ground”….the place where you began to teach her about her Creator and Redeemer.

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