I’ve looked at this poem several times, coming to the rather extraordinary conclusion that, for me, it’s a literary palindrome.
I can read it forward or backward, so to speak – with a title To the Child I Never Saw, it speaks so beautifully to the life of my 92 year-old mother, whom I now watch in the windows, catching the light of her life’s winter and becoming the child she once was.

There you are again, hollering
just for the company of the echo…
There you are wearing my genes…
I see already your ruin, inevitable as oxygen…

Almost unbearably poignant, but truly wonderful. If my mom didn’t live so close, I think I’d have to book a flight right now…