Third Family Portrait Radical Face

It was the dead of winter
The cold was in our bones
And our shelves stood barren
As we had ever known
So our mother stands on the porch one evening
With a silent crack in her stony mask
She looked up at the sky

And said "please"

And by the turn of summer
We'd packed up all we owned
And with my mom and brothers
We started for the coast
And I would count all the clouds on the way
And you and I would name them
While the world around us changed
And I remember asking if the place we're moving
Would have more food and my mother grew as distant as can be

And mouthed "please"

Eyes, so tired eyes
Pay no mind
The river of time will drown these days out