Poetry Friday - For Moms and Memories

 

created by Linda Mitchell

It's Poetry Friday, and Linda Mitchell is hosting HERE on her blog, where it's time for "clunkers"! Be sure to visit to see what that means!   

   

           Almost Mother's Day, I'm honoring those in my life: my mother, my grandmothers (I had three!), aunts and great-aunts, sister-in-law, daughter, daughter-in-law, many, many friends who gave me support as a mother, and as a woman. In the recent weeks, two of my longtime woman friends have passed. I am so sad to say goodbye, but grateful that we were special friends in different parts of our lives, as mothers, as colleagues, as women. I know that this Mother's Day will be sad for their children and loving family, yet memories help us remember what wonderful mothers they were. Here's one evening in my mind from long ago. 

Ray Hennessy rayhennessy, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Evening Sounds Push Back Time 

                (Mother to Mother to Mother)

 

Dusk murmurs heard next door,

down the street,

across the park:

My neighbor crosses over the driveway

asking ‘how is Sarah getting along?’

(My daughter, due in two months.)

I tell ‘she’s fine, getting a little uncomfortable,

but feels good still.’

 

Then, I hear my grandmother, Sarah,

call, “Yoo hoo, Mrs. Judy, how are your tomatoes doing?

Mine are not looking so well this year.  Those bugs!”

 

Later, across the park, it’s “Come home, Charlie, come home.

It’s getting dark out,

time for bath,

time for bed,

time for stories.”

Then— 

 

“Linda, Linda, are you up in that tree?  It’s really

too dark for you to be climbing still.  Come on in now.  Is that

Alice with you?  Alice May, you get on home now.  Your momma’ll

be worried to death.”

 

My husband clinks away the rake, the shovels.

The broom whispers across the porch, my hands

or my mother’s– final work today?

 

Mom, come in, come in to visit a while.

I hear you sweeping on the porch

at last light,

as I turn the pages of my book.

                                                     Linda Baie ©