99poems/4thchild

Wiping the stove,
I think of how it
sometimes hurts
when someone gets
what I have wanted,
or succeeds where
I have not.

A lingering fourth
child wound,
when time, energy
and resources
had run out,
comforting myself
with my aunt’s promise
of what she would
make just for me,
gifts that never came,
as I recall.

1/15/99