Inside The Hearts' Walls

Hello everyone! These last few weeks I had been so on top of the blog, and then this week it didn't even come into my head as a thought. I hate when that happens.
Well, anyways, the poetry club has been flourishing! We seem to have a new person every week and we definitely have no shortage of talent.
Our prompt for this week is pretending.
And with pretending, a poem emerges;

Portraits
By Mark Irwin

Mother came to visit today. We
Hadn't seen each other in years. Why didn't
You call? I asked. Your windows are filthy, she said. I know,
I know. It's from the dust and rain. She stood outside.
I stood in, and we cleaned each one that way, staring into eachother's eyes,
Rubbing the white towel over our faces, rubbing
Away hours, years. This is what it was like
When you were inside me, she said. What? I asked,
Though I understood. Afterward, indoors, she smelled like snow
Melting. Holding hands we stood by the picture window,
Gazing into the December sun, watching the pines in flame.