Artists’ Books by Kristy Higby Apostrophe to My Mother Text

Apostrophe to My Mother

By Liz Huntington


I just had a new dream about you,

Unlike the one we both know

In which you are the great dead mother

And I’m the little, live one:

It’s summer,

I’m going to and from meals

But never sit at a table or see any of the food.

Now you and I are in the water – a dark pond

Where a dozen people float,

Capturing water lilies with their toes.

We circle, slide over each other

Like two fish schooling.

And I take your hands in mine

And ask them to teach me.

You speak for your hands:

No, no you say for them.

Of famous sins, pride is the most destructive.

I feel foolish,

But keep your fingers locked in mine.

Artists' Books by Kristy Higby Apostrophe to My Mother

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