Someone Else’s Memory

by Sarah Russell


Pat and I sit drinking cocoa 
on a snow-clad December day. 
Remember that Christmas Eve, 
she says, when we were young 
and went caroling with my cousins? 
I gave you my blue stocking cap 
you wound round and round 
your neck to stay warm.

And in a rush, I remember the night, 
the carols, that Bill sang loud 
and out of tune, my new, not-warm-
enough red coat, and her cap
I found years later in a crushed box 
on the closet floor, dirty from muddy boots 
and dust, wondered who it belonged to, 
how it wound up there—the cap I washed 
and reached out the car window to give 
to a homeless man, how he thanked me 
and put it on, wrapping it round and round 
his neck, grinning through broken teeth. 


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Sarah Russell’s poetry and fiction have been published in Rattle, Misfit Magazine, Third Wednesday, Poetry Breakfast, and many other journals and anthologies. She is a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee. She has two poetry collections published by Kelsay Books, I lost summer somewhere and Today and Other Seasons. Her novella The Ballerina Swan Lake Mobile Homes Country Club Motel was published by Running Wild Press. She blogs at https://SarahRussellPoetry.net