“The Women Who Walk Us Home
The ones who arrive with a bag of clothes, four
tired lemons, half a story from her sister's trip to
Paraguay. The ones who keep our secrets and
whose secrets we keep in potted plants, in
every ocean we've ever known. The ones who
know our husbands, their little pleasures. Our
lovers and our scars. The ones who stay, hope
like a moth. Who stare into the gaping tomb
and are not afraid of its unveiling. The ones who
will be there, even then (even then), to walk us
home.”
―
Kate Baer,
What Kind of Woman: Poems
