Call
Call
This is a, direct action.
Pick up the phone, dial the number,
you know by heart…
she is waiting.
Ever there too;
listen to your woes, cut your toes,
bring you a snack, and rub your back.
Pick up your cape… superman!
Walk tall knowing “you” have been given;
every song, every cheer, every thought…
throughout the year.
She made the best of whatever there was…
but there was never very much.
Funny made up stories, told way late at night,
snuggles and kisses, that tickled like fishes…
Laughter and loving, everyone misses.
Homemade cakes, muffins, and breads.
Warm smells that make memory dance.
Hot soup and band-aids, tissues and hugs,
school work, clean clothes, good shoes…
and knit socks, “glorious” socks.
Help with a resume, rehearsing for a job.
Her heart, broken as she gracefully let go.
Still;
always there to pick up, drop-off, put up, take down,
bring back borrow or beg for…,
to make all “as it should be”.
She is still waiting.
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