Warm, chapped lips press to her ice-like brow.
Shaking, my hands chill touching her pale cheeks.
Laughter lines relaxed, eyes closed, mute
beneath a patterned Hawaiian quilt,
sheltered from pain, which I took from her,
and imperfectly stored, sprung as salty tears.
A gift that I farewell my mother, release her body
to the flames. Legacy denied to others, othered
by Americans, drowned in the Rio Grande,
limbs razor-wire incised. Men, women, small children
interred in the corpse-colored dust. No family
kneeling for that final skin-to-skin atonement.
Susan J. Wurtzburg has won or placed in several poetry competitions. She is a Commissioned Artist in Sidewalk Poetry: Senses of Salt Lake City, 2024, and an Associate Poetry Editor at Poets Reading the News. Her book, Ravenous Words, with Lisa Lucas will appear in spring, 2025. Webpage: susanwurtzburg.com
