Marginal Notes
Dear Sisters, I know you think I've become
Mother's story. My secret verbs and unspoken
nouns as plentiful and round as her's.
Verses, in the wind, singing laundered songs;
words befitting Praises and Hallmark cards.
Chapters, ear-marked; First kiss, best friend,
first born - birthdays and family celebrations.
Sorrows, disappointments: penciled in.
Marginal notes warmed with laughter, soft
socks, Cocoa and fuzzy slippers.
Baked goods, spring flowers, casseroles -
miscarriages, deaths and abortions . . .
Missed calls and appointments; I want to say
"Let's talk." but her book is closed. I hear
myself thinking, "What would Mother do,
what would Mother do now?" You know how
she loved Lilies of the Valley.
Deborah Russell, © 2006
No comments:
Post a Comment