The Estuary
by Michael E. Nowicki
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I wish I could go back
back to Florida
to the porch above the estuary
when mother was cancer free
and manatees created ripples on still water
Her skin sags from illness
from the weakness
from someone
pulling her out of bed
The down-filled comforter cushions
my body as I wait for the rising sun
my mother's cries
to break the stillness of twilight
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