Sounds of laughter
come out through my voice.
They are not always my own.
My silvery hair seems
to hang in such a way
That our resemblance is uncanny.
I’ve felt her presence
Since she’s been gone.
I’ve seen it my entire life.
Others notice more than I
Her daughter wills tears to dry
before I can see or hear them
My niece studies my face before reaching out
to stroke my cheek.
I hold my niece close
sharing our grief
even as I add to hers.