They always tell me how

They always tell me how if I had known you,

I would have loved you.

At Christmas parties, someone always

clears their throat and raises their glass and says,

"To Alice."

Then everyone cheers, and someone gets weepy,

and someone else hugs me and says,

"Oh, you would have loved her."

Then they talk about your paintings,

and how your basement was covered, floor to

ceiling, with paintings of fruit and flowers and

naked people.

We all pass around, year after year,

one of your huge paintings that we call

"The Nude."

And for a year it hangs in each of our living rooms, and, in one case,

in a nursery.

They all love how you were not afraid to paint what you saw,

even if it was ugly.

They love how even when your memory started to

slip, and you couldn't pick up a

paintbrush, you still found joy in everything.

At Christmas parties,

when they hug me and say,

"If you had known her,

you would have loved her,"

I look them in the eye and say,

"I always have."



This poem is about: 
My family


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741