Spirit Bridge 
Daily, my sister and I search
travel across the mists of our
mother’s memories seeking solid
ground on which to reach her
anchor her with us here
the expanse grows wider
her questions more repetitive
our conversations now
the same sad chanting
of call and response
she is drifting toward
the place we cannot follow
a time she resides in behind
her eyes with those she remembers
so clearly who beckon her
While daily, my sister and I
seek and hold steady
the best we know how
the bridge she treads softly
where we cannot follow
Published in Medusa’s Laugh Press
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