for Sally and Wes

This too many times—I took from my daughter,
                                   then three,
who said it when frustrated, as she tried to figure
                                   out
a puzzle, or to open the gate we put up to keep
                                   her
and Wes, her twin, temporarily out of the locus
                                   of our lives.

In turn, they shook that gate without mercy
                                   and tore
off pieces of ancient wallpaper, so that, before
                                   I tried
to sell our little house, I tried nailing plywood over
                                   bare spots
not having enough money (or skills) to replace it.
                                   Now,

Sally's words as a child have burrowed a tunnel
                                   in my mind,
like a song-worm, ever since Jane died seven years
                                   ago.