So pleased to have a poem published in the Silver Birch Press series “One Good Memory.” A lovely painting accompanies the poem on their site.
Touch
My mother was a hard woman,
not given to hugs or laughter.
But once when I was quite sick —
I must have been 4 or 5 — she sat
beside my bed, and I felt her cool,
soft fingers on my forehead, easing
my headache, brushing back my hair,
until I finally slept. That was when I knew
she loved me, though she didn’t say it,
then, or ever.
Sarah Russell Poetry 
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Thanks, Timmy!
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Lovely piece Sarah–Congratulations!
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Thank you so much.
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Your usual fantastic work but the ending (“or ever”) filled me with an incredible sadness!
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Hi Bob. Good to hear from you. Yeah, my kids and grandkids may get tired of my telling them I love them, but at least they’ll know.
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wow, really good
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Thanks, my love! (to the others who have commented, I can call him “my love” because he is!)
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Congratulations!! Beautiful poem
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Thank you, Ryan.
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Huge congrats
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Thanks, Beth.
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Lovely.
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Thanks, Louella.
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Congratulations Sarah… that last line was a terrific close!!!
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Thanks, Rajani.
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