The space under our back porch surrounded by lattice work stapled onto wooden supports. I knew how to pull lattice away so my sister and I could crawl and hide from Mother. Lacey was two years younger, eager to follow me anywhere, even into the dirt. I told her stories of frogs and toads borrowed from Arnold Lobel whose books I loved to read. When it was hot outside and Mother didn’t want us under foot indoors, we lay under the porch in shade. I think Mother knew where we were and understood how precious these moments shared between two sisters.
Fran Abrams
Fran Abrams, Rockville, MD, began writing poetry in 2017. She has had poems published in print and online, including in the Winter 2021 Bulletin of Alan Squire Publishing, Bourgeon Online,and Cathexis-Northwest Press. Her poems appear in eight anthologies, including This is What America Looks Like from Washington Writers Publishing House. In 2019, she read at Houston Poetry Fest and at DiVerse Gaithersburg (MD) Poetry Reading Series. Please visit franabramspoetry.com.