MOM

For Mom, on Mother’s day…
My mom,
Used to wait for me outside school,
In her Red Volvo.
The one I would learn how to drive in
Later, when I was in High School.
She used to write poetry,
Some of it was pretty good.
She got published here and there,
In literary magazines,
That most people have never heard of
But were well respected
In those circles.
Literate.
That’s what she taught me.
How to read and write.
And speak up.
So other people might understand you.
She also used to drink beer in her college dorm
And stack the cans one by one,
Until they got so high they collapsed.
She knew how to live.
Have fun.
Work hard.
Dig for words
To make sensible,
What most of us don’t talk about.
Most of the time.
Being alive, in nature,
Alone.
The things that travel
Thru your mind
While making grape jam
For your family
And watching the birds
Outside her window
Circling like hawks,
Kettling in the air,
In expectation of something,
About to happen,
Something wonderful,
Just beyond our grasp.
She made it ok.
Being alone.
That’s what words can do.
Thanks Mom.