When You Never Said Goodbye

Prologue: Song of My 18th Year

Back when my heart was a little red jewel—

before my longings or long limbs were formed—

my mother, just nineteen, was fated to choose:

should she keep me, or give me away.

Now people say I’m a fact-blind fool. She did

what she did—why search for her now? I have

a blessed life. I’m still young, still in school.

She’s a secret, and should stay that way.

But I’m a seeker of the past—sometimes

a breaker of rules. Maybe, just maybe

I am like her: brown curls and brown eyes

now two of the clues. And maybe, I say,

she’s a seeker, too.