Mama's Laundry

A gentle warmth surrounds me,

a familiar scent.

It's sweet and warm,

it smells like home.

It's mama's perfume.

I open my eyes and I'm lying in mama's closet amongst her fancy sweaters.

Where is mama?

She's crying again,

dad isn't home again. 

I wish she didn't cry. 

I take a deep breath and press the fuzzy linens to my cheek,

and all of my worries go away.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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