Lois Roma Deeley

Sugar Baby in Her Grief

I am alone in my sons’ room.

Wooden trains surround two plastic ducks.
Humpty Dumpty sits on the wall.

Under the twin beds, shoes lie in dust.
I wrap both wool sweaters—one brown, one blue—

around my neck.
Then I rock.

And the mattress screams from my weight.
But I rock and hum and

bury my face, deeper, into their clothes …

my baby boys …
I breathe them in.

The world does not stay the same, they say
but I say, no!

not now, not ever
I will never let you go …