I Have Things To Tell

It took me hours and hours on the bus to arrive Mother, and by the time I got to your tomb the red rose I picked was wilted but still full of love. I have things to tell you Mom. Sad things and happy things, things only you would understand. Sitting on the grass amongst the tombs I trace your beautiful name with my finger. And I remember . . . all the times at the kitchen table when I told you my worries and you listened and did not say a word until I finished. And I would ask, Mom what should I do? Then you would say, you know what to do . . . Why did you always know what was in my heart and soul. Oh, the countless times you sat upon the edge of my bed as I wept over some silly thing. And those days in the garden when we planted flowers and I told you of my day and dreams. And how deeply we cried . . . together when my baby died. Our hearts broken and forever melted together. And even now, Mom, I imagine whispering in your ear whenever I need you, I can almost hear your sweet voice saying, you know what to do. I taught you well daughter, so you could follow your own path . . . ________________________________ May 4, 2015 Poetry/Free Verse/I Have Things To Tell Copyright Protected, ID 15- 1095-856-01 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. Submitted to Contest 530, Standard sponsor, Brian Strand First Place