by Linda Umans
Can’t say I’m comfortable writing this.
Pressure from Marjorie it was
to tell the truth. She said, You’re dying, damn it.
When we were comparing nieces, she was always envious.
Yours comes to see you from New York, and mine
can’t even manage once in a while from Pittsburgh.
She always liked you.
I was never good with illness. When you got sick
well…I wouldn’t have helped much anyway. That’s
a fact, a dying declaration as they might say in those
tedious police shows you were so fond of.
So here it is, at the top. I’ve given this a title.
A gift to you. The gift of acknowledgment. You’ll see
later on in life, Linny. Not a small thing.
Marjorie will probably ask you if you want anything.
Take the Audubon bird guide. It’s the best of the lot.