For my mother
Remember when life was long,
when the world was round
and iridescent, and smelled of honeysuckle?
How it floated, soft as a cloud
through the universe?
Remember how the sun
would catch the tree line
filter luminous green rays
onto to the forest floor
where you and I would walk?
The crunch of last year’s leaves
a suitable carpet
for our bare and calloused feet.
How we would forage for berries
black and red
ecstatic with every ripe discovery,
how we would eat and smile
seed-stained teeth
and stretch our fingers to the sky,
how our friends (all kinds)
would join in our delight--
the caterpillars catching our clothes
riding on our shoulders,
beetles scurrying, just busy enough
to stop for a while,
the carpenter bee, my friend Bernard
would hover and we would
send our salutations with him
upon the wind.
The hens would follow
offering subtle chirps
stopping often to scratch the dirt,
bend half their head to the ground
then up again,
jolting a glance in our direction.
We would laugh and hold them
and I would plant a kiss
on their dusty heads,
massage their crown until
the blue film rose
from their undereye and I knew
they were at peace.
Remember how we sprinkled
dandelions on our salad,
dug wild carrots and spotted
strawberries along the path?
Dirt forever beneath my nails,
raspberry scrapes across my arms.
I would have preferred no other way.
Ever a new angle of our mother
to witness, to taste
and it was always you
who brought them out for me.
Remember you would come at night
when the light was low,
pull warmth up to my chin
and lay beside me
and we would listen to the August air
until we drifted with it
into another dimension.
When the day came, you would smile,
your deep-set eyes would brighten
and I would know
I was part of your delight.
In our Arcadia, how easy it was
to live, laugh, love
when contrast was our moral code:
we were right and they
were simply wrong.
If only I’d known
how fragile it was
how easy its ruin would be
how in a moment your smile
would morph into a grimace
then a scowl
how you would turn away
and I would never again
see the sun alight upon your face
feel the warmth of green rays upon the forest floor
hear your laughter and know
I was part of your delight