Richelle Buccilli: Dead Mothers

Photo: Joanna C. Valente

Dead mothers

Maybe like the babies we could have had,

we imagine their reflection in the mirror,

what they would look like brushing strands of our hair.

Their bloodless bodies above us,

they hover like fireflies in the summer,

shimmering in and out, a light in the darkness,

a darkness in the light.

---

Richelle Buccilli is a poet living in Pittsburgh with her husband and their one-year-old son. Her work has appeared in Yawp, Mad Swirl, Wicked Alice, Eye Contact, and Rogue Agent.