“Go on an’ take dis money to da store.
Get me some cigarettes and. . .”
before
she could finish her usual line
she’d nod out just in time
and there in my 12 year old mind
I’d know she was gone and wouldn’t return
but I learned
how to stash for a rainy day
‘cause she’d never remember anyway
if it was a dollar or five or ten
I’d be here
at this exact place
again . . .
hardly enough food to sustain a field mouse
but I dare not leave that house
NO
I dare not wander out into those same streets
that stole my mama
for fear
that they’d steal me too
I can only wait
‘cause mama’s on her way home
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