Like fingerprints on

windows forgotten or

left to remember, your

existence lingers,

clinging to me as

if still a newborn

warm upon my chest.

I dare not wipe away

these sacred stains

within my lifeline,

your presence, your

mark on this world,

your fingerprints

clutching my soul.

Lovely reminders etched

in glass to forever mark

those who came and

those who passed.

Happy 18th, baby girl!

Love, Mom