I often think of you. I’m sure I’m like many women

who’ve lost their moms — wish we could have

one last talk. There’s so much I want to run by you –

your thoughts on Trump and what he’s done

to your GOP, how I could always see how smart

you were, you would have excelled in anything

you wanted to study at college, your one regret

not going, losing Matt by his own hand.

For other

deeper things, I know how you think

and what you’d tell me. It’s the things

I’ve come to see since you died

that I wish for one last chat. I don’t want

to become a story you forget. I hope

you think of me too, that the afterlife

is all that you’d hoped, even if it’s

different than what you were told.

I’d love to sit by you holding our similar hands

one more time, our fingers laced and strong.