Today is Aimee’s birthday. Our baby is thirty-four.
And Carolynn has been thirteen now for eight full days.

The sky has bandage-wrapped the crows in soggy gauze.
Tomorrow is the day we used to play at April Fools.

I won’t pick up the phone when it doesn’t ring.
I won’t laugh at the joke you won’t play on me.

I am rewriting an old murder mystery. Everything is
yellow and chrome in the opening foyer. Of course,

I put the body right there, on page one.
Tonight I will tuck the cordless phone in close.

Spoon myself around it until it disappears like a pearl.
The voice of the grandson you never met is changing.

Getting bigger to fit right along with his size 14 shoes.
And Dani will say “I do” on July twenty-second.

When the pearl trembles me awake between dark and dawn,
I will finger the buttons, reconsider yesterdays.

~

Tender. Well done.

Thanks for sharing.

This is such a strong poem, written so quietly.

The last line bothers me - can't quite decide why. Maybe it's that, although not stated, the whole poem has been about considering yesterdays. Would you consider a comma after 'buttons', and then ' reconsider yesterdays'?

milner

Consider your suggestions in the process of consideration; pulling a work to a suitable conclusion is always my greatest challenge.  I agree, this one isn't quite there.  Did I mention the honor it is to have found your comments?  Thank you.  Lynn

Milner, thank you for your suggestion.  I've made the edit.  Lynn

I came to read you my friend, to sup upon your words, to see if I remembered right, and indeed I did, indeed, I did