My mother said they got a sturdier bowl

My mother said they got a sturdier bowl.

Wider base, she said, and laughed — that whole

easy laugh she has. I made the sound.

And the old crack surfaced: apple down

to rim, the way I'd pushed it toward the back

of the shelf, into the shadow. Maxie, black

lab, was standing in the doorway. Eyes

like she already knew. My disguise

was just her name. I said it. She took

whatever I gave her. Never shook

that story loose.

Fifteen years she's been gone.

My mother's laughing, easy, on the phone.

The new bowl is wider. Sturdier.

I said that sounds great.

                              Murkier

things have stayed quiet.

This one too.