A multi-decades old goody from a Buffalo, NY newspaper of unknown year dug out of the drawer of my ex-mother-in-law, who never wanted to write but obviously experienced this mom-predicament of feeling trapped behind the window of our own unreachable birds.
Karen just passed away in January and although her son and I separated years ago she made a point to always keep me in her immediate sphere, which I appreciated. And of course she will always be my girls’ Mimi.
My own mom also often hands me clippings but they are rarely this relevant.
What a gorgeous, heartbreaking poem.