I don’t remember her crib,
but it was probably the one that I
had only recently outgrown, but
the wood was polished pine,
the rails topped with plastic
that I had dented with some crib
toy or other, the mattress soft,
a mobile hanging off the end.
She cried a lot at first, and mother
said that was what babies did,
but she said I did not cry much
so I must have been different somehow.
She was small, I got to hold her
sitting next to mother, and she
disappeared into dad’s large hands.
She had been here less than a month
when he died that Wednesday morning.
I don’t remember when the lady came
and took her from our house,
but I know I never saw Lisa again.