by Annmarie Lockhart
Beads strung together draw the eye
and the finger; touch the bead and
know the soul, feel the heart of the
one who would wear them.
Little girls three wander into their
mother’s room, jump on the bed,
pile up like puppies. Each takes the
beads in her hand to examine their
texture and color and sniff out the
familiar scent of mama in the bouquet.
One has inherited her curves, two have
her temper, three own her powers of
perception, wit, and expression. None
show her color, none have met her ghosts.
They finger the beads and feel their
way, looking for another chapter, a
half-opened door, a hint at the back
and forth connections that draw and hold
one bead, unknown, to another.
Annmarie Lockhart is the founding editor of vox poetica, on online literary salon dedicated to bringing poetry into the everyday, and the founder of unbound CONTENT, an independent press for a boundless age. A lifelong resident of Bergen County NJ, she lives, writes, and works 2 miles east of the hospital where she was born.