I remember
one summer at the Cape
on the beach with my brothers
we wore bright colored sweatshirts,
the wind swept through our curly hair.

We were one divided in thirds.

I loved those boys so much
it brings tears to my eyes remembering
our teasing,
silly laughter,
watching them play basketball
from my window,
their curly hair soaked with sweat.

We were three parts of the whole.

The day our parents called a meeting
to announce their divorce
I cannot remember if they cried
because my eyes were waterfalls of my own tears.

None of us would ever be the same again
but we would not speak of that day
or the other miserable ones.

We became three separate pieces,
surviving in our own ways,
in our own lives,
across state lines and untraveled bridges,
three curly haired children,
with less of that now
and less of everything really.

Linda Joy Walder

Reprinted from ” Running Naked in the Snow” (Free Verse Press, 2021)