WEBVTT

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The second person is my mother
who died at 44 years old.

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She dropped dead.

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And she was a great--

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I write about my
mother all the time.

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I scavenge her bones, I think.

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And I wrote this poem.

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And when I got to the part
about my little girl--

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and my mother's been dead
for 20, almost 30 years--

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I cried because my mother
did call me her little girl,

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and perhaps I still am.

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Anyway, "the death of thelma
sayles," February 13, 1959,

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aged 44.

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This is her speaking.

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"I leave no tracks so my
live loves can't follow.

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At the river, most turn
back, their souls shivering,

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but my little girl stands
alone on the bank and watches.

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I pull my heart out of
my pocket and throw it.

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I smile as she catches
all she'll ever catch

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and heads for home
and her children.

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Mothering will make
it strong, I whisper

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in her ear along the leaves."

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