The power of words – made into phrases – dependent on circumstances…
Words to a baby small
said with a grin
scooping mashed somethings
from a dripping chin.
All gone.
Long buried
dark transgression
in the almost unreachable
back room of my mind.
All gone.
Brother sudden, father slow,
mother slower still.
My lips whisper:
now – just me.
Almost – all gone
lillian the home poet 
Never alone. All gone…can hear the sing song way I used to say that to my little eaters.
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