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  • Writer's pictureAlexsondra Tomasulo

The Return

The Return

Her soft sepia carpet, with sundrenched pine needles

received my foot steps into the bosom of her soul.

many years have passed since she released me

but not before imprinting a return ticket in my heart.

whether patient mother or prodigal daughter,

I can not say nor do I know who was more grateful

I can only speak of the peace that comes

when two experience the same loving certainty.

and after our first embrace, yes embrace,

(have you not felt an entire forest clothe you?),

we shared our stories once again,

we took out the old photo album containing memories of when children were young

and husbands and brothers still lived,

memories of before accidents and good byes.

There was another album I was not yet aware of,

an album that she had carefully stitched together,

with grasses and salt and rose petals,

with pine needles, and laughter and tears,

of this, I am not permitted to speak,

for it remains in the making, and as before,

she has vowed its safety until my return,

placing a single Goldfinch as its guardian.


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