Those Cracks In Sidewalks Never Leave

It Was Not Yours

“it was not yours . . .
it was not yours . . .”

something is keeping me
awake; I turn, watch my
husband sleep – peaceful,

inside of me I feel a
bouncing ball banging
against my heart

“it was not yours . . .”

a toy globe, the base
chipped missing red
paint – small – I remember
it well – on my school
desk –
a desk daddy got from an
old building – one they
were going to wreck with
one of those large balls

“it was not yours . . .”

a broken doll, once danced
wore a ballerina costume
wore toe shoes – my ankles
too weak, never danced on
toe – only slippers

“It was not yours . . .”

a framed picture my brother
had given me at Christmas
I really loved having it, and
hanging it in my bedroom –
he was away at college – he
is the artist. . .

Who are you?
first choice on precious
memories mean a dollar
to you . . .

something keeps me awake
at night as a ball fills up
the inside, expands and
begins to slam against my
heart –

Who are you to tell me
it wasn’t mine . . .

Nancy Duci Denofio
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