Level

Father’s son.

Sister’s mother.

Mother’s spouse.

Husband’s girlfriend.

The last, his

battlefield nurse.

I have never hoped

like I do

for parenthood.

Motherhood.

My own and hers.

So that one day

she can say:

My mother did this.

My mother owned this.

Hurt and heal.

Repeat.

And then

there is that passed life

Brother.

Once talked

through eyes.

Now write

the every day

across ocean.

Soul conduit.

I remember

the first time

I stood along

a marathon.

Burst tears.

Tonight I cried

for women

bursting pride.

They left all

behind

And now share

their all.

And my all

Levelled.

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