Inspired by a visit to my mother's grave. |
Dancing on my Mother's Grave Gray shows through beige Where I drew my hand across the stone The dirt road has just been grated And dust floats with every passing breath of wind Another wipe reveals a picture A smiling, lively blonde In a wedding dress She was always laughing A sparkling bright charmer In a little girl's solitary world Who she kept too safe Under the shade of her pale and worried arm A fierce adversary In the War of Chores Cooperate or choose your own hickory Stand defiant And she'd sweetly reach for the smallest After school I would find gifts A candy necklace or Barbie She had thought of me while shopping Then punishments ended House never smelled of dinner Lights dimmed and quiet fell Her insides were eaten Morphing into dangerous new creatures That grew and swelled Leaving only traces of mind and thought No more dancing lessons or pecan pies. I stand as a yellow rose falls from hand They had blanketed her coffin like bright yellow velvet Her favorite Then my feet move And I waltz We waltz With roses in our hair And she has orange speckles in her eyes |