She says, "Close your eyes."
"Put out your hand."
"Nooo...not that way."
She puts in the palms of my outstretched hands
a foam picture frame she made for mother's day,
a crazy splatter of sequins and glitter and little hills of dried glue
In the picture she wears a floppy red hat cocked over one eye
a lace shawl around her shoulders
Which she holds with gloved hands.
"So that you remember that I love you
if you get sad.
You can take it to work if you want,"
and skips off
to play school