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