(to my mother in honor of the day she went to Heaven)
to say for once, the transforming word
to turn the carriage into pink confection
the dress into bright horses
that's not how it went
perhaps we said when mama changed the stories
from her garden chair
turning the signet ring three times...
and then you are suddenly knee deep in spring
and the azaleas and you are the azalea queen
alright then, if it's a new story...
we will attend till when we breathe
a transfiguring sigh
and then will we comprehend
how every word she spoke
was a garden
and we were the tillers.
mary angela douglas 11 march 2021
No comments:
Post a Comment