Care

I remember, too, how she tended our small bodies,
ironed skirts that cupped our legs like bells,
dabbed lotion pink as icing on our scrapes,
slathered white cream to mask us at the beach,
tightened ponytails in summer and wrapped our first curls
in tissue paper, how she saved baby teeth rattling
in ring boxes in her dresser, how she sewed
tiny pearls, when her oldest was sixteen,
up the cuff of a wedding dress,
eyes misting in fury and loss.