Poems for Emerson (From a Mother to Her Son)

by Flora Sussely

The Biology of Absence

We don’t realize how much we keep track in our cells.
How we note the absence and the quiet that swells
Hollow is a word I think when I walk in the door
It’s hard not to expect him and just put on the chain
I wash my hair and all the while his DNA strands
weave a basket in which my heart lies wet at my own feet. […]