Lifting the sheet and summer blanket high
While the morning air struggles to billow them underneath
As they sink onto the bedframe,
When you taught a five-year-old gangly girl
Who adored you so and loved your hugs swallowing hurt and worry
Into your arms strengthened by years of cleaning
And softened by years of cooking and tasting for seven
And rounded by the weight of bringing five into this world
(A labor you called sweet and easy),
How to make a bed just so,
Smoothing out the lines to a crisp and fresh clean.
Now she allows the sheet to wrinkle and the blanket to hold stains,
A reminder that one year you are gone,
As her childhood and your protective love.