nothing,
you remember
what nothing was.
you remember
hunger
and thirst,
the thin mattress
on bed springs,
the airless
rooms,
the cold winters,
sleeping
just below a cracked
window.
you remember the dog
curled beside you.
the sun
coming through
the shadeless window.
the crow of a rooster.
your mother
in the kitchen making
instant coffee,
and pouring us powdered
milk.
and on good days,
a basket
of food from St. Thomas
More on the stoop.
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