The daughters of Albion
taking the dawn ferry to tomorrow
worrying about what happened
worrying about what hasn't happened
lacing up blue sneakers over brown ankles
fastening up brown stockings to blue suspenderbelts

I have heard in the voices of the wind the voices of my dim killed children.
I have contracted. I have eased
My dim dears at the breasts they could never suck.
I have said, Sweets, if I sinned, if I seized
Your luck
And your lives from your unfinished reach,
If I stole your births and your names,
Your straight baby tears and your games,
Your stilted or lovely loves, your tumults, your marriages, aches,
and your deaths,
If I poisoned the beginnings of your breaths,
Believe that even in my deliberateness I was not deliberate.

I could relate to her in terms of just wanting the best for your children. This is a woman who’s picking up the shattered pieces of her life to try and tend to her son, and grappling with these gaping wounds of her past.