I watched the two of them
in their summer dresses with tiny flowers
as they ordered tea and decided on cakes
tucked away at a corner table
across from me
I heard the bright chatter
daughter to mother
I think maybe in Ukranian
I hear more of that these days
watched them read aloud from a book together
be by turns serious or giggling
peering at the page
holding the book between them
the girl maybe eight
it was 365 days since you
breathed away your hard, hard life
breathed yourself out of your tired shell
and although determined never to leave me again
had to go
we had our afternoon dates, too
you with your beehive updo
me in the red dress with the velvet collar
we had our book about Babar the Elephant
we had our cream cake
and coffee for you
maybe mint tea for me
I donʻt remember exactly
but I remember the feeling of the world
being ours, just us, nothing more important
on a German summer afternoon
I remember being a daughter
when being a daughter was all I knew
at the counter on my way out
I called over the server
bought some cream cake
tucked a note into the paper doily
asked for it to be delivered once I was gone
two forks please
just me saying:
please enjoy this
a treat from a stranger
you remind me so much
of myself and my mother
a long time ago
and
thank you for giving her
back to me today
