May 10, 2016

Mom at 93

Mom at 27
 MOM at 93

Sitting in her wheelchair in her small half of the room
Lovely in her soft trim blouse and fresh hair do
Thanks to daughter Angie’s care

Looking out her window at the feeder Ange keeps filled
And at the small garden space with benches buried in snow
And of course the hungry birds

A booklover, she can't read much anymore
Even large print
Yet reads her tiny watch with ease!

Do the lines dance together?
Is it that she can't put meaning to the words?
She can when we talk it seems

Mom has difficulty remembering her children's names
She thanks me for explaining them
From photos in her room

One afternoon I returned after being with her in the morning
Mom asked, "Did you just get in? Is John with you?"
I flew alone this time and had explained

Later I looked at some photos on her desk
Mom asked what they said
I told her I wasn’t talking to anyone.

“I know,” she said
“I thought the girls in the picture
Were talking to you.”

Mom reads the snow covered shrubs, benches and other garden
Mounds the way she showed us animals in clouds
When we were small

"Looks just like a deer
Turning its head to glance at me," she smiles

She knows it's not a deer.

-JoMae
Written in 2003

May 09, 2016

Quiet Room

Quiet

The room where I sit is a quiet room
Not even the radio plays
But the sun streams in
Flooding the floor
Pouring branches all over the place

Where the light, sprouting shadows 
That silently dance in the  
Early Spring breeze
Sprinkles joy on a cool sunny morning
All over the carpet

A Soothing Intrusion

JoMae
5/9/16