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
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