The poetry gods were smiling today. This prompt was just what I needed

Pajamas

The red and white dress

with the twirly skirt

she danced in at two weddings,

age four

The gray blue sweater

I knit for him with

the XOXO cable down

the front

These linger in

my memory and

also in a bin

in the basement

But it is their pajamas

that bring my hand

to my chest, release

a quiet oh from my mouth

How they were passed

down from one to the other

How they held their tiny

bodies in heavy sleep,

Sweaty after a feverish

night, rumpled and

creased at the elbows

and knees

When you add all

the hours they slept,

it may be that their

pajamas held them

Even longer than

we did, perhaps

that is why I

love them so