think of my love
as a red glass button
hanging on a threadbare dress
Nothing stirs but the wind that rattles rain gutters and pulls on the hinges of blistered shutters. A pair of boots has been left out on a patio of gray flagstones, the mud still clinging to their heels like forgotten promises.
In the last moments before childbirth, a mother sees how similar her life and her child’s life will be.
The courage that my mother had
Went with her, and is with her still:
Rock from New England quarried;
Now granite in a granite hill.
All morning I groom you with tiny lovenames.
I am a cat, you are my kitten, cowlicked
Her dreams were artistic,
not caught up in soap operas.
She was creating a new breed
with crayons, storybooks and blind faith.
A boy visits his mother in the hospital and imagines a perfect day with her: And as you leave you must know you are belovedAnd as you leave I can … Continue reading
Early July, ninety degrees in the shade and me in the crook of my mother’s arms. She has her movie star sunglasses on, purple cat-eye glasses with iris-tinted lenses. … Continue reading