The first time you called while I was in the room, I felt her race past me to get to you.
And I won’t forget.
Cradled in her daughter's arms, this time you came more gently.
And I won’t forget.
Years later I saw you force a grown man screaming to his knees, and I won’t forget.
Then came the night that you showed me your face.
You came to call before you took him.
And I am trying to forget.
© Elizabeth McLaughlin
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