on the odd occasion
I drift into my mother’s house
ruby
emerald
sapphire
earrings lined neatly
on the dresser
today she wears diamonds
tiny jar of honey
lifted from the drugstore
where she eats breakfast
placed exactly on kitchen counter
tea bags in custard cup
await her pleasure
I find her there
an abbreviation
cross legged on her bed
paper napkin in her lap
tuna sandwich on white bread
her hands are swooping birds
pecking at the food
flitting eyes asking questions
a northern creature
transplanted to the south
her voice still holds the sea
damsel fly skimming the top
her life is a hand knit afghan
that turned out smaller than she expected
anger is her portion
and she roars
the echo
of a full lifetime of
never enough
2 comments:
I hear the honest forgiveness. The honest clear minded acceptance of who she is not what she may have done to you.
You read me so well Cassi! thank you so much.
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