Mother & Daughter

Was this the moment we were supposed to remember?
       One little piggy under water and nine more
       wishing they knew what would happen next.

Wasn’t this how our belly button muttered truth?
       Telling a story of how we were connected
       even years later when we might forget it.

Was her robe always that long?
       Even on the mornings when she got up
       to see the boys off on their paper routes?

Did she really prefer her clothes in stripes?
       Maybe he picked that for her after
       she chose the forget-me-not wallpaper.

If my foot tipped the side of the bowl
       and the water ran on the old carpet
       or tipped the pitcher and broke it

did it matter then or was it later?