Molly Burgan Poems

The sun has set, there is no moon.
No light shines in, this lonely room.
The walls close in, the last light fades.
The mind begins, to count the days.
...

She looks at her hands, calloused and scarred,
Rough from the work of a life that's been hard.
She feels of her hair, now thinning and gray,
And her mind wanders back to a long ago day.
...

Mommy look! See what I see.
Not much to you, but new to me. What's that? What makes it go?
You know Mommy, 'cause you're so old. What's in there Mommy? I want to see.
I can't reach it I'm only three. Watch Mommy! Look what I can do
...