Glass of white wine for happy hour,
Glass of red for dinner,
Because we like to double fist it
On holiday weekends.
Mom makes me King Salmon from Alaska
and egg roles or crab cakes. She knows my favorites.
Dad buys fine wine
Because he’s glad to have me home.
I look at him, see a male image of me
34 years older. It bodes well for my future.
Blue eyes wizened with age, streaks of silver in
Brown curls, but still a lot of me there.
With mom, it’s the eyes and nose shape.
They’re aging, but still young at heart.
They laugh and smile at stories of my grad
School friends. They remember, sometimes wish
They were still there.
On cloudy Texas afternoons when I can
Smell the rain coming in,
I walk to my water fall,
My place of peace, the place where the
Water falls into the stream, and I am reminded
That there’s a natural rhythm to life, a purpose.
Not all goes as planned sure, and disappointment
Makes his nasty appearance, like the wrinkles
Under my still young eyes that I cover with a small
Amount of “concealer” make-up.
Disappointment might win battles,
But He won’t win the war. The waterfall
Gives me peace, the strength to go on,
To keep writing my own story while reading
Those of my friends.
Home from the walk, Mom makes
Me coffee from central market,
The place of fresh food.
I pour my cream, hear the spoon clank
On the coffee cup,
Sit outside on the overcast
Porch to write my poems, slap
The bugs as they try to suck my blood.
I wonder about the future, but no longer
Worry. Mom and Dad met in the summer of
1967, their summer of love. They were just
kids; Mom was still a teenager. I’m sure then
They never knew they’d be in Texas
Twenty-something years later. They thought they’d live
In North Carolina forever, maybe, not Europe, then
Savannah, then Michigan, then Georgia, then off
To Texas they went.
They went where the tide of live took them,
Open to the pull of the water’s current.
They knew there was a reason,
Even though we didn’t walk into a church
Building or a synagogue this holy weekend.
To me, water is always holy.
It reminds me that the real meaning of Easter