Tracing
March 24, 2026
Tracing
My mother has two, six-inch long scars
on the front of her shoulders
as if heaven made a mistake
and stitched wings on the wrong side
and angels had to saw them off.
But truthfully, while playing basketball,
the bird of her bone simply fell
from the nest of her joint.
She was opened by a surgeon’s knife
differently than when she was opened
for my brother and me to pass through,
but still, my brother and I found the knitting
of our mother’s body familiar
as she let us trace the scars
in the summer when she wore
her bathing suit.









