A Visit To Mom
Atypically, she was alone
unsmiling,
wig askew,
with all the songs shut out
behind her half-closed door.
I knew that she had also drawn
the blinds within her mind,
to soften the impetuosity
of joy.
She struggled
to pull back the thoughts
that like a child
would run away too soon--
reminding me again
that all the "simple things"
she ever thought or said
elude her;
then the love that she had stored within
emerged to let me hear her say,
"I am so thankful
for my family."
Her 97th year, a time
for facing new goodbyes,
new deaths in her to come,
that we will string upon the fraying tie
that flesh alone will bind.
There in parting our embrace extended
past my equanimity; I stepped inside
the elevator, closed the door
and then once parted from her,
struggled on my own
to smile
~
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